Sojourner
by Sulhadahne
Summary: A truck driver is hired to take a beat up Peterbilt halfway across the country... but this truck is more than meets the eye. What starts as a three day delivery becomes a life changing experience. Optimus/OC, TF:Prime
1. Georgia to Nebraska

It was not the first time she'd taken a job from the government, nor would it be the last, but something about this time felt different.

For one, there were twice as many forms to fill out as usual, even more oaths of secrecy to take. Then, there was the fact that she had no idea what she was shipping, and the men who contacted her refused to tell over the phone. While government agents were hardly open books about their operations, she'd never been kept so out of the loop. Wendy did not like driving in the proverbial dark.

She hadn't been told a single thing until she'd driven out to a restaurant in the countryside of Georgia, where one Agent Fowler was waiting for her. They sat down to dinner together, the agent across from her, both of them tucked into the back corner of the room. Wendy sat with her back stiff, arms crossed, her red baseball cap on the seat beside her. Her pa taught her better than to wear her hat at the table, even if it was just a red countertop in a dirty Waffle House.

"I hope you understand what you're agreeing to, Ms. Martin," Fowler huffed, his usual crankiness shining through. He'd hired her once or twice before, and always seemed to work with an air of frustration about him. Working with politicians will do that to you. Wendy took a sip of her sweet tea before replying.

"Almost sounds like you don't want me to take it," Drawled the driver.

"Honestly, I'd rather not be in this position. You've got a good reputation, but this is 'need to know', -"

"And you'd rather I didn't need to know." She finished for him. Her hand reached for the tea but when she went to drink it, it was all ice. The woman glared at the glass as if it had insulted her as she spoke again. "But for one reason or another, you need a driver. If you need somethin' shipped, I can do it. I can get it there, and I can keep my lips sealed. But I wanna know what I'm takin'." Her glare turned toward the man. "I don't drive ignorant of my cargo."

"And I don't tell civilians classified government intel."

"This 'civilian' seems to be your only option, else you wouldn't be here, would you?" She smirked when his look darkened. "If you want my help, then I need to know."

Fowler remained silent for a moment, fingers twitching on the table, before he gave a heavy sigh and stood. He made a motion of his head for her to follow. Wendy stood, grabbed her hat, and removed her wallet from her pocket, plopping a bit more than enough on the table. Then, once she adjusted her hat to be perfectly straight over her forehead, she followed him out.

They left the cafe and got into his black, innocuous government issue car. The woman let her gaze run over it with the keen eye of a mechanic, before stepping into the passenger's seat. Wendy stretched out her legs, a content smile on her face. Fowler saw and gave a chuckle.

"Not used to all the room?"

"Not used to somebody else doin' the drivin'." She grinned at him. "And yeah, semis aren't big on room, least, not in the front."

The rest of the trip was quiet - Fowler's eyes twitched as he drove, shifting left and right constantly. Wendy noticed how tightly he held the wheel, how stiff his limbs were. Something had him on edge.

The destination they came to was a truck stop; Wendy snorted at the irony, at the sight of something she'd come to know well. This one was almost completely abandoned, but for one vehicle. It was a mess - a big semi without a hitch, covered in dirt and grime, and dented beyond belief. Her eyes scanned it with the sentiment of a worried mother.

The car came to a stop and Wendy leapt out, striding over to the beat up Peterbilt. Without a thought her hands traced the scars, the bruise-like dents that littered the machine. Giving a heavy sigh she let her hand fall.

"Someone's been cruel to you, poor thing." Her eyes traced the faint lines of a fancy paint job, beneath layers and layers of filth. She rubbed it with her sleeve, but only a bit came off. "Too bad; you were probably quite a looker in your day."

"I see you've found it already."

Fowler approached behind her, and she bristled, turning quickly. "Found what?"

Arms crossed, he nodded at the truck. "The cargo."

The woman blinked. "... the truck?"

Nodding, Fowler approached and handed her a key ring with just one key. "This 'truck' is what we need you to transport, quickly, quietly, and secretly; and I mean all of that." His look grew dim as watched her take the keys. "This vehicle is vital to our government, and some really nasty characters would love to take it out."

The key fell into her limp hand as she stared at the agent. "... we are still talkin' about the truck, right?"

Smirking, Fowler crossed his arms again. "I'm completely serious."

"There's nothing... in the truck? Important documents? Vital equipment?"

"Just the truck." His smirk fell as the man's expression darkened. "I'm very serious. If you take this job, you need to know there are some very bad guys after this thing, and if they get ahold of it, that's the end of everything - and I mean everything."

Wendy's fingers curled partially around the key as she blinked again. "... the truck?"

Fowler nodded. "The truck."

Turning, Wendy cocked an eyebrow at the beat up Peterbilt. "And the destination?"

"Jasper, Nevada."

She turned back. "You want me to take an empty, beat up rig to the middle of nowhere to save us all from some certain doom?" He said and did nothing, so she sighed and pocketed the key. "All right. I'll go with it. Long as I've got a job, I really don't care if the government believes a truck is our only hope." She shrugged. "Let me get my things, and I'll set out tonight."

"Not tonight, now." He stared her down, daring her to fight, but she just shrugged.

"Now, then."

* * *

><p>Fowler was waiting with his arms crossed when she came out of the hotel room with all her things: two duffel bags over either shoulder, and two rather large suitcases. Fowler's eyebrow raised.<p>

"Got enough?"

She shrugged as she moved towards the trunk. "Don't get home much." That was all the explanation she gave as she hauled it into the back. As Fowler jumped into the driver's seat, she slammed the trunk and went around to the side, and they rushed back to the truck stop.

The truck was still there, of course, though Fowler almost looked relieved to see it. A curious look came to Wendy as she watched a few quick emotions flit over Fowler's face before he schooled his appearance. She pretended not to have noticed when he glanced her way, moving towards the trunk.

"So, what else should I know about these dangerous folk comin' after this truck n' me?" She grunted as she hefted her luggage out. "I mean... seems like you could afford to get some soldiers or somethin' to protect it... if its so important n' all."

"We could, but then we'd be alerting everyone as to the importance of the truck. Better to lie low, keep it discrete, and try to make it under the radar."

"Yeah... makes sense. But what if they do find me? What should I expect?"

Fowler stepped forward to open the side door for her; he had to struggle with it. Apparently it was caught pretty tight - but with a final tug it opened. Wendy set about adjusting her things as they spoke.

"Well... armed men, to be certain. There are some shady groups who'd love to get a hold of this thing. If that happens..."

As she finished loading her stuff (careful to keep the window clear so she could see), Wendy turned and lifted the edge of her long, flannel shirt. "Don't worry, Agent," She smirked at the shock in his eyes. "Armed men I can handle." She dropped the shirt and the weapon on her belt disappeared again.

He stared at her back as she moved to get into the driver's seat. "You got a permit for that?" A chuckle was his answer.

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to." Stepping up, she removed the key from her pocket and shut the door. "A woman on the road's gotta protect herself... whether or not she's got the money to register for it." That made him close his mouth, but the tight pull of his lips showed just how he felt about it.

Wendy's hand curled around the key tight, fingers caressing the metal like a lover would. A small smile came to her lips as she reached for the ignition, turning into a grin as she revved the engine and heard a thundering roar.

"Nice," She couldn't help the childish giggle that escaped her - despite how beat up it was, the truck seemed to be well built. Her eyes flitted to the dash and grew wide. "This is... quite the equipment for a truck. Cracked to shit, but very nice..." Her hand trailed the dashboard, running over computer screens, miscellaneous buttons, broken glass, until a cough brought her back to reality.

"If you're done gaping, you should get going. Now." The stress on the word was evident, and Wendy quickly remembered her job.

"Right, of course." She nodded to him, cracked a small smile, and went to roll up the window; his hand stopped her, made her look back up.

"Wendy... I know this is hard to take seriously, but I'm not kidding when I say this is very dangerous - especially for you. The success of this mission is vital; but the longer you're with this thing," He gestured to the truck. "The more your life is at stake. Do it quick." He glanced around, before meeting her eyes with a surprisingly dark, hard stare. "Trust me when I say you won't be able to fight what's coming after you."

After a moment of hesitation, Wendy gave a slight nod of her head. "I understand." The dark mood cleared when she smiled, all confidence and naivety, ready to face a danger she did could hardly imagine. "See you on the other side, Agent." Fowler backed up and watched her go, guilt heavy as bricks settling on him, dragging his shoulders down.

Wendy was ignorant of his mental distress, feeling a healthy mix of excitement and concern as she set on the journey. Savannah, Georgia to Jasper, Nevada - about thirty hours non-stop, but she'd definitely have to stop at least twice. A three day journey with the strange, government truck.

Once she was on the road, heading out of town, Wendy felt some of the tension ooze out of her back, as she returned to that familiar routine. Her body naturally took control, instinct and long practice leading the way. In her head she plotted the route: I'll need the 404 W to head out of here... then on to Tennessee on 1-75...

The clock on the dashboard, cracked down the center but functional, read 4:03. That left perhaps five or six hours of driving, depending on how alert she was...

The street signs and lamp posts whizzed by, smaller cars ducking out of her way quick as possible. Half the fun of driving a big car - watching all the little cars panic. Wendy cracked a smile and tried to forget the nerves rising in her chest. For all her big talking to Fowler, the fear was starting to sink in... this was a very serious job, and she didn't even know why. Nor could she imagine what in the world was so important about this bedraggled piece of machinery, certainly a nice machine despite the damage yet nothing special so far as she could see.

City streets and city life began to pass as the countryside appeared, the long highways coming into view. A bit of relief choked out the fear; this was her place, as close to a home as she'd ever had, the only place she felt completely at peace and in control... America's highways.

Wendy felt calmer, more at ease, and patted the steering wheel with a sly smile. "Well, looks like its just you n' me now, big boy," A bit of her nerves rose again for a moment, and she squeezed the leather tight. "Don't worry. I'm not letting anybody get to ya; not if I can help it..." Steel entered her words and hardened her gaze, and if anyone had been there to see it, they probably would have believed her.

And so began the most exciting drive of Gwendolyn Martin's life.

* * *

><p>"... this is a bit awkward."<p>

The truck was quiet but for the dim rumble of the engine and the echo of wind against the windshield. Wendy glanced out over the road, half into the conversation, half not.

"I'm real used to talkin' to my truck, but you're a whole nother story. Never driven somethin' so important - not to mention somethin' so well made... you might look messed up, but sounds like what's under the hood is real nice." She chuckled as she passed an Audi, which had quickly veered out of her lane. "Guess I should start with the introduction; seems as good a place as any."

If any of the other drivers had seen the woman sitting in the dented truck, talking to herself, they probably would have completely cleared the road. As it was, Wendy had most of the right side of the road to herself, going down the long stretch of I-16 W.

"I'm Gwendolyn Martin... and if I had friends they'd call me Wendy." A half snort interrupted her. "I'd tell you to call me Wendy, but you're a truck. A very important, government truck, but an inanimate object nonetheless." For a moment she fell quiet, her sardonic stare fixed on the road. A few minutes went by this way, the same inane trees and surroundings passing by.

"I suppose you're wonderin' why I'm talkin' to ya. Or, you would be... anyway, let's chalk it up to long hours on the road and loneliness. You'd go crazy without anybody to talk to, all this time to yerself..." Another snort. "I'm already there, probably..."

Her eyes flitted up to the rear view mirror - they were a light auburn brown, to match her hair. Said hair was so short it was almost entirely hidden by her baseball cap, cut in a boyish fashion. Wendy returned her eyes to the road, giving a heavy sigh.

"How long till the uninvited guests arrive, I wonder?" Her throat felt thick as she said it, grip tightening on the wheel again. "I need to stop thinking dark. All right, time for some music."

With one hand on the wheel, she grabbed a duffel bag and pulled it close, unzipping it without taking her eyes off the road. Her hand dived in and dug around blindly, until she smiled and pulled out a CD case.

She unzipped it and picked a CD: Tim McGraw. Smiling, she pushed it into the player and sat back to let the music unfold. It didn't take long for the country twang to fill the cab.

_He said I was in my early forties, with a lotta life before me..._

Head bobbing with the sound, Wendy felt her anxiety floating away.

_CHKHKHHCH_

Jumping, Wendy's head snapped towards the radio, which had suddenly starting playing static. "What the hell?" She reached out and fiddled with the knobs, until the static abruptly stopped. For a moment nothing played, then came a new sound. Wendy stared incredulously as something new started. It wasn't country - it was electric guitar.

_You've got the touch - you've got the power - after all is said and done -_

"This is not on my CD!" Stunned and a bit peeved, Wendy started trying to change the channel to no avail. She tried making the CD play, tried turning down the volume - nothing. "The hell! What is this?" She hit the radio with her fist and nothing happened.

_You've never walked, you've never run -_

"The eighties and rock music, two things I hate molded into one." Grimacing, Wendy ejected her CD - the one button that did work - and went back to her CD case. "Fine, picky. Let's try this."

She had no idea why the music had changed or what had happened, but decided to try another CD anyway. Anything would be better than Stan Bush.

The song did stop when she put the new CD in; her music began to play, and a smile came to her lips.

_Tire swings, summer dreams, honeysuckle on the breeze -_

It lasted all of two seconds.

_CHCKHCKH - She's got a smile that is seems to me, reminds me of childhood memories -_

"Ugh, what do you have against country music, ya hunk of junk!" She punctuated her words with a swift kick to the base of the console - completely forgetting all the compliments she'd been paying the truck earlier. "Ya possessed punk!"

Once again she attacked the dashboard with all the fury of a deranged maniac, somehow managing to keep the truck mostly in the right lane. If all the little cars around her panicked and got out of the way anyway, that wasn't her problem. After a few minutes of struggling in vain to turn it off, she huffed and fell back into her seat.

"You are an evil machine."

_Oh, oh oh oh, Sweet child o' mine -_

"Maybe I should hand you over to whoever's after you, make the bad guys suffer this. I went through the eighties once already, and I've no desire to relive it."

_Oh, oh oh oh -_

"Yeah, I got it the first ten times!" Red in the face and frowning, Wendy turned her attention back to the road and tried to block out the horrendous sounds.

Yep - this truck was definitely something special.

* * *

><p>It only got weirder from there.<p>

Thankfully the rock music didn't last forever, and Wendy was actually glad when silence pervaded the air. She was still angry from earlier - and surprisingly, that was keeping the worry down, so she allowed herself to stew for a little while longer. Anything to keep her nerves strong.

Another hour passed that way, with the other cars on the road avoiding her, as usual. Except for, well... a few strange moments.

The first time was seemingly ordinary. She was heading down the same long stretch of road towards Tennessee, when something green came up in the corner of her vision. Turning her head, Wendy saw an a big green truck riding up on the side of the truck.

The strange thing was how close it was getting to her vehicle, especially given how much other drivers had been avoiding her large, damaged truck. In fact, it came impossibly close. Wendy could've sworn she saw the two almost brush each other, but then the truck vanished off the highway.

On its own, the moment meant nothing. But not an hour later, another incident occurred.

A tiny blue motorcycle came up on the truck, with a teenage boy as its driver. Usually anything small avoided her like the plague - especially something that small. But this one came very, very close to the Peterbilt, the boy turning his head towards it. She couldn't see his face because of the helmet, but she watched as the motorcycle grew closer, and then - the boy reached out and touched the mirror. Her eyes widened as he did it, flying to him; he glanced at her for just a moment, then dropped his hand, and off he went, disappearing into the mess of cars.

After those two, Wendy felt her nerves bristling, and began driving with more urgency. Clearly she wasn't as under the radar as she'd of liked to been - and someone knew where she was. Keeping her eyes peeled, Wendy opted to keep the music off, and focused on paying attention to everything around her. Still, she had no idea what was going on or how serious it was, but she took Fowler's warnings to heart. Someone was after this truck.

After a good six hours on the road, Wendy called it a night at a truck stop in Chattanooga, just on the other side of the Georgia - Tennessee border. She wasn't quite ready to sleep, but stiffness was starting to settle into her bones, and she'd be no good for tomorrow if she was exhausted and sore.

Stepping down out of the cab, Wendy stretched and glanced around. There weren't too many people at this place. After making sure the truck was locked - and giving another paranoid look around - she turned towards the store and stepped in.

The ding of the bell alerted the store to her presence; no one paid her any mind. Wendy glanced around to the fast food places, the tattoo parlor, the rows of snack foods. Deciding to eat a full meal instead of just potato chips, she got in line at the KFC. After purchasing dinner, she walked back out of the store and to the truck, stepping in and locking it behind her.

"Now, I wouldn't usually eat in the truck, but with everybody out to get you, I'm nervous bout leavin' you alone. Hope you don't mind." She dug into her chicken leg with gusto. "Mmm... pretty good. Not like ma's... but its food so I can't say nothin'. Though KFC is hardly southern cookin'..." After another bite, she set it aside and took a sip of her soda. "Ma knew how to do it. Never made it often, but when she did... mmm!" A soft smile, her coke pausing on its way to her lips. "One of the few things I remember about her." She fell silent, her drink still mid air, eyes unfocused and staring off into the distance; looking not at the scenery, but the past. "Died when I was a kid." More silence - then a chuckle, and she dove back into her food.

"I never used to get so personal, talkin' to my truck... somethin' about you makes me emotional, I suppose." Before she took another bite of the leg, Wendy glanced at it thoughtfully. "Well, you or the chicken."

The rest of dinner went by quietly, until she was wrapping it all up and tossing it into the trash outside the truck. She brushed her hands off and turned to head back, and that was when she noticed the figures.

A few men in black, around the edge of the building. It seemed like they were just standing around - but something felt off. Too dark to see them, but it looked like they were in masks... two more of similar appearance were inside the store, and some more by the exit out of the stop. Eyes narrowing, Wendy quickly turned her head and went back to the truck, trying to appear as normal as possible.

Once she was in and the door was shut, she took in a deep breath. "All right... not likin' the look of them." Glancing back out the window, Wendy's eyes widened when she realized the ones by the back had vanished. That settled it. "Somethin's off, and I'm not waitin' around to find out what." In a flash she had the truck cranked and was backing out. If the shadows nearby moved, she didn't notice, focusing on getting out as soon as possible. She zoomed out the stop and back onto the road.

* * *

><p>It was about midnight when her eyelids really started feeling heavy.<p>

Paranoia kept her from pulling into another stop - or really, any parking lot - so on she went, trying to put as much distance between herself and her pseudo attackers. The only problem with that plan was the need for sleep, which was becoming more and more dire as time went on. Darkness settled in deep, the lights of the truck breaking the shadows apart, thin lines of brightness in all-encompassing night.

"Okay..." Her words were interrupted by a long yawn. "Okaaay... this is turning out to be a long night." Normally she wouldn't push herself this way, but this was a special circumstance. Still... she wouldn't make it... much longer...

The truck veered a bit and hit the ridges on the side of the road - the shaking brought her back to life. "Dammit..." But sleep would not be averted so easily. She really needed to find a gas station or something, soon... "Why is it there's nothin' out here when I really need it?"

She drove on, keeping an eye out for someplace, anyplace, to get some shut eye... and last she remembered, she was still staring out over the dark road, white lights leading the way...

... and when she opened her eyes again, it was morning.

Shock woke her up better than any cup of coffee could, as her head snapped around, looking at the dashboard in utter amazement. "Wha - how - when?" The truck - the truck - was still driving - driving without her! "Did I..." Mouth open, she stared at the wheel, which was moving on its own. Without her help.

"But..." Then her head lifted to the sky, where the bright orange sunrise was making its way across the trees. "The whole night... I slept at the wheel and the truck drove... how the hell..." Her eyes dropped back to the wheel, hands moving to it slowly, unsurely. "How did..." Finally she took hold of the wheel again, feeling somewhat delirious and completely out of her element. "When Fowler said you were special, he really meant it, didn't he?" For the sake of her sanity, she decided to leave it at that.

Checking the computer screen on the dash, Wendy saw they were already on the I-57 N, in Illinois. "You really are somethin'..." For another good five minutes, she stared incredulously at the screen, as if thinking it would change at any moment. Then she sighed. "I need a break..."

So she drove (she could feel the truck giving control over to her, and it was creepy) to a gas station, parked and stepped out, needing a break from her country-hating, self-driving government truck. Hand brushing through her hair, she began to pace in front of it, eyes wide, lungs taking in air a little faster than usual. "This is... I can't believe..."

A few more minutes of pacing and nonsensical statements brought no clarity, so finally she strode into the station and bought something for breakfast; a cup of coffee and a packet of Salem cigarettes. She stepped back out towards the truck, but didn't get back in yet.

She paced with the coffee, quiet this time, brows furrowed with thought. "This is... freaky, to be honest." She stopped and faced the truck, trying to stare it down but failing because it did, in fact, have no eyes. "I appreciate what you did... just took me by surprise. Spose I should have realized a truck the government values highly would have some tricks up its sleeves." A half hearted chuckle, a pause - and then she took in a deep breath. "Well, time to get movin'. Show ain't over yet."

So she stepped back into truck, set the coffee into the cup holder, and pulled out the pack. Once the door was shut her attention went to the cigarettes.

"I've been quittin' I swear... but with stress like this I could use somethin' to take the edge off..." She removed the plastic, took out a cigarette, and then turned to the duffel. After a little fussing she found her lighter and gave a joyful laugh. Putting the cigarette to her lips, she set about lighting it.

Flick. Flick. WHOOSH.

Just as the light took and caught on the cigarette, the air conditioning in the truck started suddenly and strongly, blasting away the flame. Wendy jumped; she hadn't turned the truck on! Though, honestly, hardly anything could surprise her at this point, and she was a tad more upset about the cigarette.

Frowning, she turned away, putting her back between the lighter and the vents, and succeeded in lighting it a second time. Relief filled her at the first intake; carefully she turned in such a way as to protect the cigarette from the vents, in case the truck tried to mess around again. Grabbing the key, she cranked it - though if she really needed to, she didn't know - and then rolled the window down. Wendy began backing out as she put her elbow on the leather, the cigarette dangling out the window.

WRRRRRR

Stunned, Wendy's wide eyes turned to see the window had rolled up quickly and suddenly - chopping the lit end of her cigarette off.

"... I am seriously gonna hurt you."

* * *

><p>They entered Missouri a little after lunch time, and at that point, Wendy was ready to abandon the truck. It had destroyed ten of her cigarettes in multiple, creative ways, which would have impressed her if not for how much she really wanted a cigarette at the moment. It got to the point that she eventually pulled into another gas station, stepped out of the truck, and walked five feet away. She made a big show of pulling out the pack, removing a cigarette and lighting it.<p>

"There!" She stomped her foot, waving the cigarette at the truck. "Ha!" It took a minute for her to realize that quite a few people were staring at her. Color flushed to her face, but she didn't get rid of the cigarette. Instead, she stepped back to the truck, leaning on the grill as she took another drag.

After a moment of reflection she sighed. "Another twenty hours or so..." Her gaze turned to the sky. "No attacks yet. Somehow I doubt it'll stay that way." Finally, she flicked the cigarette away, and stepped back into the truck, unable to stop the grin coming to her face. "Least I finally got my cigarette."

She shouldn't have been surprised - shouldn't have been, but was - when the seat she sat on suddenly jumped beneath her, throwing her forward onto the wheel. It didn't hurt; she recognized it as a teasing retort, and her grin grew. That is, until her eyes went to the rear view mirror. Her grin immediately fell.

"Shit," Standing behind the truck were a few of the guys from the night before, looking much more conspicuous in the light of day. "Time to go, big guy." Without hesitation she cranked it and threw it into reverse, hauling ass out of the station. Immediately after she turned onto the road, four green cars leapt out of the wood work after her. Sports cars, she noticed with a sneer, gripping the wheel tighter. She could outdrive them.

Slamming her foot onto the pedal, Wendy turned on the speed, rushing over the limit and then some, taking the curve of the road at a dangerously fast pace. Her pursuers were undeterred, taking it just as fast, one of them coming up beside her. When she turned to glance at it, she saw guns.

Ducking down, she twisted the wheel and slammed into them hard, throwing them off the road just as the highway became visible. Wendy lifted her head again and soared onto I-435, heart pounding hard.

"Okay, shit's real now, - hope you can hold out through this," Glancing behind, she saw three of the sports cars veering onto the highway, shoving other cars out of their way, taking volatile control of the road. Sneering, Wendy turned her eyes back ahead. "Two can play this game."

Racing ahead, Wendy glanced around for ideas, for options, and noticed how many civilians were on the roads with them. There weren't that many cars, and definitely not enough to hide a big semi. "We're gonna need a miracle to disappear into the crowd here."

RATTA-TATTA-TATTA! Wendy jumped at the sound of gun fire, reflexively ducking her head. "Shit, shit, shit!" Veering wildly left and right, she tried to avoid the fire; a mini van beside her hit its breaks to avoid being hit, and became an obstacle to one of the sports cars. It veered away, crashing into the road blocks in the center of the highway. "Two down, two to go,"

THUMP.

Jumping, Wendy grew alert when she realized something had jumped onto the truck's roof. Her hand went to her belt, before she glanced at the dash.

"Think you can do that driving trick again?" Tentatively she let go of the wheel - sure enough, it drove on its own just fine. Smirking, Wendy removed her pistol and rolled the window down, pushing her upper body out and up.

She saw the man kneeling on the roof before he saw her; grabbing the top, she pulled herself up, taking him by surprise quickly enough to smack him with the side of the gun. With a gurgling groan he fell from the truck, hitting the pavement at something close to eighty miles an hour. Wendy winced; she did not want to see the remains of him.

Her eyes flew to the magnet on the edge of the roof, tied to a thick chord - there were plently of them strewn about the Peterbilt's roof and rear wheels, as if they'd planned to lift it out of there... glancing up, Wendy saw a helicopter flying dangerously low. Not strong enough to lift the truck... but the large military plane flying in behind it was. The woman stood, lifted her weapon and took a moment to aim. A single blast shook the air, piercing the windshield of the helicopter. She had no idea if it had hit anyone inside at all... but if nothing else, it served as a dark warning. Done with that, she knelt down again and removed a knife from her pocket, setting about cutting the restraints.

The helicopter was still flying - apparently she hadn't hit anyone. It came lower and lower, to the left side of the truck, near her level. The driver glared through the tinted window, which rolled down to reveal a smirking man with a scarred face.

"You're a very determined woman aren't you?"

Her reply came out as something of a snarl. "I don't fail my employers."

"I can see that," The man chuckled mirthlessly, fingering the gun in his own hand - one much bigger than hers. Wendy wouldn't allow herself to be intimidated. "Too bad you've been employed by the wrong side. Surely you can see that."

Wendy glanced from the beat up truck to the fancy looking green cars to the helicopter. "No, don't think so. Sure you're lookin' at what I'm lookin' at?"

"Oh, I'm sure, ... Wendy." If she was surprised he knew her name, she didn't show it. He still smirked, and continued. "Gwendolyn Martin, high school drop out and convicted criminal, daughter of Ray Martin, high school drop out and convicted felon." At that she did flinch, only to glare darker a moment later.

"Done your research, good fer you. If you're done showin' off, I've got a job to finish."

"And I've got a proposition for you."

"Don't even start." She smirked, lifting her gun again. "Let me guess - join me, turn over the truck, I'll give you money and cars and everything your heart desires?"

He smirked back. "I was thinking more along the lines of releasing your father from prison."

That actually took her breath away for a minute, her arms faltering, gun arm falling a little low. "... what?"

"Exactly what I said." He took a moment to laugh ominously. "Completely legal, completely cleared of all charges. A free man. All you have to do is walk away."

For a long moment she remained completely still and silent, mind blown by the chance she was being offered. There was even a tiny second she thought she might take it - and then there was the painful moment when she knew she never would. Grimacing, she lifted her gun again.

"Go to hell," And fired, only missing because the helicopter pilot veered back suddenly. She didn't let it faze her, turning to the ropes once again she took out her knife again.

She began to rush, sweat pouring down her face as the green cars drew ever closer, the ominous gun rattlings growing louder. "I'm a sittin' duck out here..." Hardly able to breathe from it all, she kept going at the bindings, ignoring all else... until a green car pulled up on the truck's right side, in front of her. Eyes wide, she hoisted her gun - but there was no need.

Suddenly a yellow Camaro came out of nowhere and slammed into the green car, blowing it away, only to follow as it veered off course. Shocked, Wendy sat up and looked back. The other green car was having similar problems with a big truck. Deciding to leave it alone for the moment, Wendy went back to the bindings, removed them all, and then hopped back into the driver's seat.

"Miss me?" She grinned, feeling a strange exhilaration from it all. Putting on a bit more speed, Wendy and the truck left the others in the dust, vanishing into the mire of highway traffic.

"Wahoo!'

A grin a mile wide came to her face as they zoomed off down the highway, leaving the battle long behind. Anxiety gave way to adrenaline and a high of happiness. "We did it! What a team we make, huh?" She patted the wheel fondly and turned her eyes back to the road, her breaths still coming in quick gasps. A quick glance to the map revealed they were on the I-29, briefly crossing into Iowa before taking the road out into Nebraska.

Still beaming from their victory, she almost didn't notice the red light that suddenly lit up on the screen. When she did see it, all the previous joy vanished into the black hole that was tightening her chest.

"... shit."

* * *

><p>She stopped at the first truck stop she found.<p>

A litany of curses escaped her as she leapt from her seat and ran round to the passenger's side. Quickly she grabbed a duffel bag, hefting it to the sidewalk. With a zip of the zipper, the tools within were revealed - then she stood and opened the hood.

Her movements faltered once her eyes fell on what was hidden beneath. "Holy mother of God..."

The engine housed under the hood was unlike any she'd ever seen - and one of the nicest pieces of equipment Wendy had ever laid eyes on. Something that one normally didn't see in a truck... but it was blown to bits, smoking and dented and in deep trouble.

"Dunno if my skills are up to this... but I gotta try," Rolling her sleeves up and adjusting her cap, Wendy knelt and went back to the bag. "Here goes nothing."

Nothing is certainly what went.

An hour of useless attempts later had Wendy kicking the air and throwing her tools to the ground in frustration. Nothing she did seemed to curb the problems this truck was facing - each little repair she made spawned two more issues. It gave pained groans and issued smoke from time to time; it was beyond her help.

Sweat, grime, and filth covered her and her clothes, head to toe - in an attempt to wipe sweat from her brow, Wendy covered her forehead in black gunk. Looking up, she glanced towards the far side of the truck stop, where she could see a car garage. Hope lit up in her hardened eyes.

Leaping to her feet, the woman rushed across the parking lot and into the garage, latching onto the first grease monkey she could find.

"Hey," The man she called to was bearded and bald, in his mid forties and a bit plump around the waist. "I gotta truck bout to run its last, I need a miracle worker."

Apparently things weren't too busy around the garage; he shrugged and brushed his hands together. "Bring me to 'er."

One good thing about the man - he seemed to know what he was doing, at least, knew better than she did. On the other hand -

"Well, I think I can patch 'er up, given a few hours. Poor girl's in horrid shape," He glanced over his shoulder to Wendy, who stood very close with her arms crossed. "The hell'd you do to her?"

"I ain't payin' ya to ask questions," She snapped, strangely irritated. Under her breath, she added, "And he ain't a 'girl'."

The mechanic shrugged and turned back to the truck. "Though, to be honest, it'd be cheaper to scrap the thing and get a new truck. Gonna cost a fortune to tune this baby up." He patted the front and Wendy felt her eye twitch as he turned to her. "I've got a guy I can call -"

But then she was pointing at him, finger an inch from his face. "No phone calls. No guys. I want him repaired as best you can by tomorrow." She snapped, dropping her arm.

The mechanic held his arms up in defeat. "All right, all right! If she's that important to ya -"

"He. He. This truck is a he."

"Right, o'course," She could see the man rolling his eyes as he turned back towards the garage. "Lemme get my tools."

Wendy watched with narrowed eyes as he stalked off, and then climbed into the truck. She was not letting the man work on it without her supervision. "Ignorant, back water fool - if my pa were here, he'd have you workin' perfect in no time..." She was still grumbling under her breath when the man got back.

He nodded to her through the windshield before disappearing behind the hood; Wendy had half a mind to get out and watch him work, make sure he didn't pull anything stupid... but exhaustion was setting in. Curled up in the driver's seat, Wendy hardly noticed her eyes closing before she fell asleep.

A tap on her window woke her up.

The man was outside, looking as dirty and grimy as she was. Wendy stepped out and moved to the front with him.

"Did the best I could, but I doubt it did much. It's a mess," Huffing, he put his hands on his waist. "It'll run... but it's not safe. I wouldn't recommend it."

She was hardly hearing him, her eyes running over the inner workings of the truck. "I'll keep that in mind,"

Nodding, he gestured for her to follow. "I'll run you up the bill,"

Cold sunk into her chest and her stomach fell into her feet. "Right..." Reluctantly she followed him into the garage, turning for a moment to look at the truck. The repairs had helped... but it would need much more than that. Hopefully the government's had something ready in Nevada.

Throat clenching, Wendy followed the man into his office. Five nerve wracking minutes later, the total was tallied - when her eyes fell on it, she did her best to keep a poker face. Inside, she was panicking.

Giving a nod, she stood. "Lemme get my bag..." He kept his eyes on her as she went, but he didn't say a word. Wendy tried not to hurry from the garage.

Once she was at the truck she shoved all her tools back into the bag and threw it into the passenger's side; then moved to the other duffel. Inside was a large plastic bag, containing a good bit of green - but not enough. Nowhere near enough.

"All my life's savin's, down to this..." She gripped the bag tight, her insides curling uncomfortably. "I..." Silence was all that came out. There were no words for the pain rising in her throat. "Shit..." Her head fell, resting against the seat.

Footsteps behind her made her raise her head. "Got the cash?"

A frown greeted him, but she raised the bag towards him. "I haven't counted it - though I imagine you'll enjoy doin' so."

He leveled her with a glare, but took the bag. "Strange way to carry cash."

"My savings. Not everybody got's a bank account." But by that time he was into counting, hardly listening to her. That was a boon - Wendy turned to the car, making a show of zipping the bag back up. Her hands shook just a bit, but with a deep breath she stilled them, steadying herself. She took slow hold of the edge of the seat.

Then, she pulled up, vaulting herself up into the car, before slamming the key into the ignition.

"HEY - !"

But she was already in reverse and rushing out, the side door still wide open; one of her suitcases balanced precariously before tumbling out. Too late now. Without looking back she rushed from the place, heart hammering in her chest as she sped down the highway.

"God..." Gripping the wheel as tightly as possible, Wendy felt herself sag into the chair; trying to ignore the burn of unshed tears in her eyes. "I've fucked this all up..." She didn't even notice the side door shutting itself.

She kept driving, gritting her teeth hard; then a hand rushed to her eyes and she rubbed the tears away, smearing the dirt on her face. "God, I'm filthy..." A dry sob escaped her throat and she quickly bit her lip to keep quiet.

They kept going, still going a bit above the speed limit, Wendy trying to reign her emotions in. "Ten years of work, gone like that..." Then she gave a sputter of sad laughter. "Guess you think I'm foolish, huh? If I was gonna cut and run, why not keep the cash?" She shrugged, glancing down. "I wanted to pay him. I want to be able to do things the legal way - and fuck if I don't end up on the underbelly of everything anyway..." She slammed her fists on the wheel. "Fuck!" She wasn't even driving anymore - the truck had taken over. Her anger began to fade and she slumped forward, fists uncurling. "I want to go clean. But it ain't easy... every time I try somethin' comes up to throw me off again."

She tried telling herself she was being completely overly emotional - responding too strongly to the situation at hand. But perhaps it wasn't just the current situation. Memories and images from long before, from previous desperate times and desperate measures, were also fueling her rage and her sorrow.

A tear managed to escape her eye, trailing down through the muck on her face, becoming tainted and dark.

Her eyes fell to the truck. "Sorry... to drag you into this. I have a bad habit of screwing up everything I touch."

With that she fell silent, putting her hands back on the wheel, letting off on the speed. She didn't think anyone was after her - and without her name or license plate, the mechanic had no way of setting the police on her, besides physical description. That probably wouldn't work well once she was out of state.

Lost within her own thoughts, Wendy hardly noticed the change that came over the truck. The seat she was in began to warm up - only once it was comfortingly warm enough to sooth her aching muscles did she notice it. Not only that, but it was almost like the leather was conforming to her body; like a friendly embrace.

A barking laugh escaped her. "A sentimental truck. Never would've guessed." The click of machinery surprised her, and she turned to the radio to see a CD being ejected. Frowning, she stared at it for a moment.

"You... want me to play somethin'?"

Of course, there was no answer. Wendy tentatively reached out and took the CD, then dug into her duffel for her CD's. "Glad I didn't lose this bag..." She mumbled. If there was a slight sniff as she spoke, she ignored it.

She picked a CD and shoved it in, leaning back and wiping her eyes one more time. The tears were drying up. The music began with sharp piano keys, slow and melancholy, followed by a man's alto.

_You disappear with all your good intentions... and all I am is all I could not mention..._

"Thriving Ivory. 'Flowers for a Ghost'." She lowered her eyes and let the music float around her, the piano keys and the somber echo. Then she gave a light chuckle. "What? Not gonna fight me for it?"

_Like who will bring me flowers when it's over... and who will give me comfort when it's cold..._

Apparently he wasn't, because the song kept going, the piano picking up, the pace quickening. As it kept on, she began to softly whisper the words under her breath, not quite brave enough to sing aloud.

"She took a plane to somewhere out in space," She murmured. Her eyes were hardly on the road, but between her and the truck, they kept on the straight and narrow. "To start a life and maybe change the world..."

_See I never meant for you to have to crawl... no I never meant to let you go at all..._

On went the song and she kept muttering the words, the road stretching on before them. The chorus passed again, the words rumbling in the speakers, until near the end of the song, the lines changed... and three words played over and over, a proclamation and a curse.

_I'm only human..._ "I'm only human,"

_I'm only human..._

* * *

><p>They were a good ways into Nebraska when Wendy finally decided to quit for the night, pulling over into a truck stop at about 1 o'clock in the morning. When she got out and stretched, she patted the roof of the truck.<p>

"One more day, big guy..." Even as she said it, she wasn't sure how to feel about it. Torn between relief and a strange sense of regret. Shaking her head, she went around and grabbed one of her suitcases, hauling it into the stop with her. She desperately needed a shower.

She got clean and changed clothes, dressing in a white tee shirt and baggy blue jeans, her trademark red baseball cap returning to its place on her wet hair. The shower lifted her mood by miles. Next was dinner - she grabbed a sandwich at the diner and went back to her truck, suitcase trailing behind her. Her steps halted at the door when she saw what was beside her truck.

A group of men were surrounding her Peterbilt - fear jolted her chest for the briefest moment before she realized they were not, in fact, the men from earlier. They were just young punks looking for trouble. Frowning, she stepped out of the store and made quick steps for her truck.

At her appearance the boys turned towards her - three youths, a few years younger than her, each lighting up with lecherous grins at the sight of her. One of them had the audacity to lean against the truck, arms crossed.

"Don't tell me you're the owner of this thing." The boy chuckled, glancing at all the dents. "No wonder it's so screwed up. A woman truck driver? I didn't know they allowed that."

Fury rose in her chest but she shoved it down, hitting him with a hard glare. "Aren't you up past your bedtime?" She stepped around him towards the door, but when she reached for the handle, he put his hand on it.

"Come on, babe, don't be that way," The other two were coming up behind her, she noticed with a sneer. "We don't bite. Unless, y'know... you're into that."

"I'm not into anything concerning you or your prepubescent friends. Fuck off," Grabbing his wrist, she twisted it and threw it to the side, earning a yelp from the boy. But before she could grab the handle, the boys behind her grabbed her arms and pulled her back. "Let go of me, you fucking -"

Before she could finish her sentence, the door to the truck suddenly flew open, smashing into the first boy's face. His yelp this time was twice as loud; the two boys behind her were stunned and distracted, so she took the chance to wrench her arms free, elbowing one in the nose and the other in the gut. As they groaned and fell to the ground, she grabbed her suitcase and hauled ass into the truck. The door slammed shut as soon as she was safe.

"Thanks for that," To her surprise it didn't stop. The lights flared on and the truck roared to life, going in reverse by itself. Stunned eyes watched as it drove itself away; and as soon as she set the suitcase aside, the seat belt flew around her, clicking into place and tightening protectively. Wendy's mouth fell open. "Are you - ?"

The truck was out of the stop before she could think of what to say. To be honest, her emotions were a mire of confusion, surprise, and genuine gratitude. Still in awe of the whole situation, and completely unsure of what to say, Wendy settled on awkwardly patting the wheel and saying "Thank you" once again. A strange blush came to her face.

Did the truck just protect her? No one had ever looked out for her like that, not even her pa. More often than not he'd drag her along into his problems, then leave her to fend for herself... Wendy began to drift into darker thoughts, almost not noticing when the radio flared to life.

The static finally caught her attention - and to her surprise, she heard sound bits coming out; they sounded awkward, like they'd been pieced together from different places.

_Are - you - all - right?_

For a minute she blinked in dumb fascination at the radio. "Uh - yeah, fine n' dandy." At this point nothing strange about the truck should have surprised her, but here it was, still showing new tricks. An awkward silence descended on them for a few minutes. Then, static again.

_What - did - you - do?_

Confused, she blinked at the machine. "Sorry, what'd ya mean?" There was another burst of static - then a recording of sound, taken from earlier. Wendy's eyes narrowed at the familiar voice of the scarred man.

_Gwendolyn Martin, high school drop out and convicted criminal..._

"Oh, that. Right." Her grip on the wheel tightened. "Should've known." Her eyes narrowed and she heaved a sigh. "You deserve to know, I s'pose." Still she hesitated, perhaps looking for the right place to start. With one last deep breath, she began.

"My pa was a truck driver - he was hardly ever around. For years it was just me and ma, till she died. After she was gone he came home and stayed for a while, until the day came when he told me to get in the truck and we left. Never saw home again."

"I spent the next few years with him, on the road, and at first it was like some grand adventure. Romantic and shit." She gave a scoff. "That didn't last long. Jobs were hard to get and pa wasn't easy to get on with. He caused trouble with employers, gave shit to the police, got us in trouble at every turn. Then came the illegal stuff."

"He was my pa, so I didn't turn on him... but I didn't feel right bout it. Some of the stuff we did... the stuff we delivered... haunts my nightmares. It was a livin', but a terrible one... but it was all either of us knew. And I didn't have any other chance. Pa screwed me over." A choked laugh escaped her, lacking any joy. "He took me outta school, isolated me from all the world... made it so I had to depend on him. Selfish bastard."

Wendy fell silent for a few minutes, trying to focus on the routine of driving. "I was seventeen. We'd done another job for a suspect employer... Pa had gone in to get our pay, told me to wait in the truck. But it was takin' so long... I had a bad feeling. Then... BAM. I rushed into the building to see what it was... and saw my pa with a gun, and our 'employer' bleeding on the floor. He wasn't dead... Pa never had good aim."

"He... looked up at me with dim eyes, the life floodin' outta him... and then Pa turned and saw me. Started yellin' bout not listenin' to him... I hardly heard him. All I could see was the man my father had shot. Once he finally stopped yellin' at me, he turned round to finish the job."

"I don't remember too much of the details... I know I started runnin' at him... leapt on my Pa, grabbed his hands. Shouted myself hoarse. I fought with him long enough for the police to arrive. Turned out the man he'd shot had been an undercover cop... the both of us were arrested."

"I got off easy - the innocent, underaged daughter led astray by her ass of a father. I was to serve community service, live with a foster family, and return to school." A sardonic chuckle; her eyes fell. Wendy hadn't noticed but she'd begun to absentmindedly stroke the wheel with her fingers. "That didn't last. I knew next to nothin' about schoolin'; felt like an idiot, stuck in that room, kids younger than me answerin' questions I couldn't. My 'family' treated me like a leper, as if I might turn on em any moment. I hated everythin' about it." Scowling, the woman clenched her hands around the wheel. "So I committed my first crime on my own - stole some money from my foster family, took the keys, and drove off with their car. Never looked back."

"Goes without sayin' that I had to do some things to get by that I'm not proud of - and once I started truckin', most of my deliveries were... questionable. I was well known for keeping quiet and not asking questions. Guess that's why Fowler picked me, huh?" Laughter again.

Sleepiness was starting to sink its claws into her, but Wendy fought it, trying to focus on her words. "I'm not a good person. But I promise I'm not gonna fail at this. I'm not gonna let you down." Weary both emotionally and physically, she dropped her hands from the wheel. "Can you take over for a while, big guy? I need a breather."

More sound bites echoed in the cab._ You - re - safe - with - me - get - some - sleep._

She smiled. "Will do."

* * *

><p>The last day of driving dawned slowly - Wendy woke up in the truck, her head resting on the wheel as if it were a pillow. A fog drifted over her brain, drowning her in confusion and questions before consciousness and memory brought it all back. Slowly she lifted her stiff neck, rubbing the back of it, groaning as she did. Only when her head was a bit off the wheel did something catch her eye.<p>

On the wheel, in the center, was a red symbol; kind of like a face in geometric lines, almost cat like. Wendy stared at it, eyes narrowed, a finger tracing the edges.

"Mornin'," She finally said, attention drifting back to the car. "Let's see... where are we now?" The map revealed they were in Wyoming, getting closer, but still not quite there. Wendy wasn't really sure how she felt about that - relieved to be successful? Remorseful for it to be over? Frowning, she turned her eyes back to the road, putting her hands on the wheel.

And suddenly the road exploded.

A billowing cloud of smoke and flying debris burst into the air along with the echo of explosions; cars flipped front over back, burst into flame, as others still slid to a dangerous halt before the wall of fire. In a moment of clarity Wendy realized exactly what was going on, and took firm hold of the wheel.

"Hold on!"

Then she turned hard right, shoving the Chevy in the other lane out of the way, driving hard for the side of the road. The truck dutifully raced off the pavement into the trees, onto a dangerous decline that she never would have braved if not for the danger chasing them. Sure enough, she heard the roar of engines coming after them - a quick glance in the rear view revealed more green sports cars on their tails.

"Looks like we're not outta this yet," Gaze hardening, she turned back to the road, navigating treacherously shaky ground, littered with trees here and there. On they went, bursting through the brush, pursuers hot on their tails.

As soon as they came out of the trees, Wendy turned the wheel hard left, hitting the gas hard. They flew over the grass. In the side mirrors she spied the enemy rolling their windows down, men moving their weapons to aim and fire.

"Shit, let's get a move on!" As their gun fire echoed through the air, she shoved her foot down as far as it could go, and the truck sped faster. A thousand myriad thoughts assailed her - how to lose them, how to get back to the road, how to survive this - but she kept her cool and pulled her own gun out. But even as she did, more green cars pulled onto the stretch of grass, giving chase, and she could see a helicopter coming on them in the distance.

To make matters worse, the little red light on the dash began to go off again, signaling trouble under the hood. "Fuck, fuck it to hell!" Grimacing, Wendy gripped her gun tight and glanced back again. "Ain't lookin' good, big guy,"

Suddenly the radio cut on._ Save - yourself._

"Shut the hell up," With a grunt, she unbuckled herself and turned around. "Drive for me, will ya?"

Wendy rolled the window down, and after another quick glance, leaned her upper body out. Arms stretched, gun cocked, she took aim, fired a few times, and was relieved to see they worked, somehow. She had no idea what part of the man she hit, but it made blood spew and his gun drop, so she counted it a victory.

She turned her attention to another man with a gun as the truck jostled her - that shot missed by a mile, and her gun was empty. Cursing, she dove back into the cab for her duffel bag.

The truck shook even worse as she reloaded. "You all right?" The red light taunted her and for the first time Wendy felt genuine fear that they might not make it. Then she steeled her nerve and cocked the gun.

Just as she was sitting up to take aim again, she saw a few new cars arrive - and actually grinned at the sight.

"You have some pretty cool friends," Wendy watched as the yellow Camaro and the big truck plowed through the sports cars. Leaving it in their hands, Wendy went back to driving. That was when the alarm started. "Shit!"

Smoke was coming from the hood again and all sorts of warning lights were popping up on the dash - panic began to fill the woman as she took hold of the wheel. They were going much too fast, and the smoke was clouding her vision - on the verge of terror, Wendy slammed her foot on the brake and turned the wheel hard left. A horrid screech filled the air and after minutes of sliding through grass and dirt, knocking small trees out of the way, they finally came to a halt within the trees.

Wendy stepped out, coughing hard, only to hear the roar of rotor blades. With no way to run and no where to hide, Wendy planted her feet, lifted her gun, and waited. The blades were getting closer... and then passed overhead.

She knew too much of bad luck to believe they were really gone, and the crunch of branches beneath feet proved her right. Glaring into the brush, Wendy kept her gun up. "Come out where I can see you!" She shouted, gritting her teeth.

"You truly are a stubborn woman."

The voice came from the left; she snapped towards it, gun ready. "And you are a real pain in my ass." The man laughed as he stepped out from the shadows - the scarred man from before.

"I wouldn't have to be, if you didn't insist on standing in my way." A smirk came to his lips, distorting the marks on his face. "I wonder if you even understand what side you are taking. Do you know everything about that 'truck' you're defending?"

She gave a light shrug. "I'll admit, I don't know much. But I've already picked sides, and I'm no traitor. 'Sides, your face gives me the worse case of heeby-jeeby's."

The man burst into laughter, head thrown back. "Is that so? Perhaps I should enlighten you as to what side, exactly, you have taken." He began to pace, and as he did, so did Wendy, moving to put her body between the man and the truck. "On the one hand, you have us - Mech, the future of technology. The future of civilization. We are the illuminating beacon that will lead the world into the new era, the torch that will light the way." He paused, turning around to pace the other way. "On the other hand, you have that." With a lackadaisical hand he gestured to the truck. "A sentient robot that has no place in this world."

Then he turned, feet planted, and stared her down. "And you've chosen to side with it, the outsider, over all of humanity. Do you know what technology like that could be used for, in the right set of capable hands?" As he said this, he raised his hand, and slowly clenched his fists.

For a moment she simply stared him down, gun slightly lowered but still raised. "Y'know, you'd of made a great politician. You're really talented at tying in random facts and phrases in ways that make it sound as if you're doing the right thing, when really, you're just serving your own selfish needs. The way I see it, it's like this," She lowered her arms, gesturing with one hand, then the other. "On the one hand, there's you, an all around asshole. On the other, there's the truck, who's been nothin' but a gentlemen this whole time. To me, its easy to see who I should side with."

The man's eyes hardened, teeth clenching. "Very well." And then he had a gun raised in the blink of an eye.

The roar of an engine surprised them both - the truck reversed in double time, taking them both aback. Wendy did the one thing she could think to do: she leapt up and grabbed the hood. Scrambling to climb up higher, Wendy heard more than felt the truck suddenly take off. The movement sent her further up the front, until she was able to turn around and brace her hands and feet on the metal, gripping it as if her life depended on it.

"I hope you know what you're doing!" She screamed over the engine roar, eyes wide as they raced off across the grass, back towards the highway. The only thing she could hear was the blistering wind and the engine roar - and soon, smoke began to rise again. The truck wasn't doing well.

Then two of the sports cars whizzed in front of them, and the truck had to halt, spinning to the right. Wendy gripped for as long and as hard as she could, but eventually flew off, hitting the ground devastatingly hard. But in a flash she was on her feet, spinning around to rush to the vehicle.

The door opened for her and she leapt in, and then they were off again.

They sped between the two cars, back up the hill to the road, and Wendy had never been so relieved to see pavement. She expected to see the two sports cars flying up after them - instead, there was a billowing cloud of red smoke in her rear view. They had apparently been taken care of.

Still, all was not well. Some of the alarms had stopped but the truck was still in trouble, and this time, she didn't have a dime to her name to pay for repairs. Sighing, Wendy hit the pedal and whispered, "Just a bit further. We've gotta put some distance between us."

They drove a few more miles, then turned off into a fast food restaurant. Wendy leapt out and grabbed her tool bag, hoping she could mend something. They were so close, if they could just make it a little longer... With those thoughts in mind, she set about making repairs, ignoring her own pains and needs. There wasn't much she could do, but she did what she could, before collapsing in an exhausted heap in the driver's seat.

"Did what I could... it'll have to last to Jasper. We're so close." She went to turn the key and was hit with a sudden bout of dizziness, with a bit of nausea. One hand went to her head, the other to her stomach - her eyes widened. Why was her hand wet?

Dropping her gaze, Wendy realized suddenly that her white shirt was steadily turning red. "Well, fuck me," She whispered hoarsely; suddenly the truck flared to life, and began to reverse. She looked up. "And what're you doin'?"

The map vanished off the screen and was replaced with the red and white hospital symbol. "No!" Clutching the wound, Wendy gritted her teeth. That shout had hurt. "I don't have the money or insurance for anything - not to mention I'd get arrested. Hospitals ask personal questions, buddy."

_You - are - injured._

"Yeah, but not badly. I can handle this." She reached over to her bags, searching around, before grimacing. "Shit! My first aid stuff was in the bag I lost."

_I - will - take - you -_

"No!" Wendy insisted still. "We gotta get to Jasper." She reached for the other suitcase, quickly removing a pair of jeans. "This'll do, for now." First, she lifted the shirt up to get a look. The wound was an inch long cut in her upper torso, and it was pretty deep, oozing blood over her pale skin. "Shit," Images of her fall from the front of the truck came to her. "Must of fell on a rock or somethin'..." She took the jeans and tied the legs around her waist. It was a bit awkward, but hopefully it would stem the flow.

With a sigh, she adjusted her position to be more comfortable, then gave a sardonic chuckle. "What a pair we make, huh? Both of us banged up, on the run, shit out of luck..." Another laugh; one of her hands gently traced the edges of the steering wheel. "Thank you, for not leavin' me behind back there."

The radio clicked on suddenly. _Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down -_

The laughter that burst from her this time was very real, though it sent spasms of pain through her chest. "Stop - stop - it hurts to laugh!" She fell silent, pressing one of her hands against the wound in an effort to stem the flow. Her other hand went to the wheel but it refused to allow her control. "I can still drive, you know," Even to her, her voice sounded raspy, weak. The radio clipped out one word: _Rest._

For once she found herself too tired to argue.

* * *

><p>The scenery became rockier, dustier, and more boring the closer they got to Nevada. Without anything to distract her besides the dull ache in her gut, and the slowly rising wooziness, she kept her eyes on the window and let thoughts wander into her head.<p>

There were so many questions to ask, so many unsaid things, but Wendy was torn between quite a few dilemmas. Did she really want to know? Would she be allowed to know? And would it really matter if she had answers, since she'd never see the truck again after today? That thought made her wince, a pain worse than her physical torment squeezing her heart. She'd never been so disappointed by the end of a delivery.

In the end, her curiosity won out, and Wendy sat up, turning back to the wheel. "So... is what that guy said true? You're some kinda 'sentient robot'... or somethin'?"

There was quiet in the cab - then the static of the radio, and an answer._ Yes._

A little burst of laughter - somewhat painful - escaped her. Wendy wiped the building sweat off her brow. "Gotta wonder why they'd make a truck into a super smart robot. Not that I'm complainin'. So you're some kinda government project... somethin' those guys want, and you've gotta get to Nevada, where I'm sure there's some kinda super secret military base, right?"

_Something - like - that._

A half cocked smile came to her face. "Well... what happens then? You get locked up and kept secret for the rest of yer miserable existence?"

_No._

There was no more of an explanation than that, so Wendy decided to leave that alone. For another minute they simply drove, Wendy pressing the wound closed. They were very close to the end, close to safety... yet she couldn't help but feel almost... cheated.

"Have I thanked you yet? For everythin' you've done for me?" She asked out of the blue, trying to fill the silence.

_I - should - be - thank - ing - you._

But she simply shook her head. "No, really." Her usually hard eyes softened an infinitesimal bit; her next words spoken so quietly they fell just shy of silence. "You have no idea what you've done for me."

Blurry vision - from tears or blood loss - came over her as she glanced down to her hand. It was trembling, and red; the jeans were soaked and it was dripping down her leg to the floor. "S - Sorry... I'm makin' a mess..."

The pedal moved on its own and suddenly, they were speeding down the highway, well above the posted limit. Wendy gave a dry chuckle.

"It would be so ironic..." More dry laughter as she glanced back up to the road, dizziness making her vision worse. "If I died now..." The delirious woman did not explain herself; her eyelids were getting heavy but she refused to shut them just yet. "Have I... thanked you? For everything?"

_SAVE. YOUR. STRENGTH._

Everything was a blur as they began to drive faster and faster... time became nonexistent as Wendy grimaced and put her hands back on the wound.

"Hope we're gettin' close... for your sake and mine..."

Then, through her dimmed sight, she saw something vaguely familiar and irritating: a long line of green cars, stretched out in front of them on the dirt road. The truck was the only other car there - they had long left the highway during Wendy's delirium, and were now faced with the end.

This time, there was truly no way out. The road was blocked by perhaps ten cars, all filled with black clad, armed men. Wendy's heart sunk, and she kicked the door with a half hearted curse.

"Got any ideas?" The driver gasped. To her surprise, the radio spurred to life.

_Lift - your - legs._ Confused, Wendy stared - the cars were getting closer. _Quick! Up - onto - the - seat!_

So she lifted her legs up to her chest, put her feet on the seat - and suddenly everything changed.

Darkness enveloped her, along with a cacophony of metallic sounds, all around; then she was flying up like an elevator, jolted higher and higher, the sounds growing deafening. The walls drew in close, too close, leaving hardly enough room to breathe, and the air was hot enough to take her breath away.

Panic and confusion made war inside her as Wendy tried to make sense of what the hell was going on. Suddenly the world had turned on its axis - on the verge of hyperventilating, Wendy pushed her arms out, searched for the walls, for anything to touch.

That was when everything started to move, to shift violently up and down, back and forth, like an amusement ride. Pain shot through her chest as her wound was jostled, fear pumping the blood in her veins twice as fast.

Groping for something, anything, to hold on to, Wendy stuck her hand into a cavity - and suddenly was filled with warmth and bathed in a soothing blue light. Quick as lightning she snapped her hand back, and felt the pain and dizziness finally overtake her; her eyes fell shut as she went unconscious in the dark...

* * *

><p>Ironically, the first thing she saw when she woke was light - a painfully bright light. Wincing, Wendy lifted a hand to shade her eyes, surprised by how heavy her limbs felt, how lethargic she was... Where was she? As soon as she tried to sit up, pain assaulted her, before gentle hands pushed on her shoulders.<p>

"Careful, you'll rip the stitches..." A soft voice coaxed. After a bit of blinking, Wendy found her vision clearing: a black haired woman in scrubs was leaning over her with a smile. "Feeling better?"

Slowly, Wendy nodded, rubbing her head. "Where am I?"

"Jasper, Nevada."

It all came rushing back, everything, all at once. "The truck?"

"Safe and sound, thanks to you," The woman beamed at her as if she'd descended from the heavens, an angel on high. Then the nurse leaned away, and Wendy almost expected to see the truck behind her, but instead Agent Fowler was seen approaching.

"Great job, Ms. Martin." He actually smiled. "Crisis averted - and the 'truck' is back where he belongs."

Bristling, Wendy sat up again, putting her legs over the edge of the bed. A firm frown came over her lips. "Where is he?"

But Fowler shook his head. "Just leave it; it'd be safer for you to forget this ever happened."

She was not at all surprised - expected it, really - but the light in her eyes still dimmed in disappointment, her lips forming a sardonic smirk. "Forget... right." She chuckled darkly, slowly moving to stand. The nurse didn't interfere, but she stayed very close.

Once she was standing, a file folder appeared in her face. Wendy gave a snort. "What? More paperwork?"

Fowler just shoved it towards her. "Your reward."

The look on her face said she'd completely forgotten she'd been hired - somewhere on the road, it had transformed from a job into something personal. Gingerly she took the folder, removing a small stack of papers from inside. Her eyes scanned it, widening as she flipped through - her mouth slowly dropped open more and more. When she finally spoke, her voice was weak, and it had nothing to do with the pain.

"This is..."

"You did the world a great service by protecting that truck," Fowler began. "I'm sure you realized its a lot more than it seems... more even than you know. This -" He gestured. "- is a token of our appreciation."

Stunned, she held the papers higher, fascinated by whatever they held. "But... how..."

"I'm not a special agent for nothing. Your record's crystal clear as of right now... and there's enough money in that bank account to get you back on your feet. Not to mention..." There was a jingle of metal as he lifted up a key ring. The light in Wendy's eyes brightened.

"A semi?"

"Not as 'special' as the one you're leaving... but it'll do its job."

Wendy accepted the keys with an eager smile, still blown away.

"You... how can I..." Laughing, Wendy gripped the keys tight.

Fowler seemed to understand, crossing his arms with a smile. Even the nurse was beaming. "Not everybody gets a do over kid. Take care with yours."

When she looked up, Wendy's mouth pulled into a firm, determined line that still managed to be a smile. If there were tears in her eyes, no one pointed it out. "I will." He began to walk away, presumably to lead her out of the building, when Wendy called to him. "Fowler?" He glanced back. "Can you pass on a message for me?" At his nod, she continued. "Tell the truck... tell 'em, 'Thanks again', and... goodbye." He gave a quick nod; after a pause, her look hardened and she stomped over to him, poking a finger into his chest. "You better take good care of that truck!" The woman proclaimed angrily. "He's the only friend I got - if I hear a word of y'all experimentin' on him or otherwise bein' fowl..."

"I got it," Fowler held his arms up in surrender but there was a big grin on his face. Said grin seemed to make Wendy realize what she'd been saying - she flushed and dropped her hand.

"... and make sure he gets my message."

"Somehow," Fowler smirked. "I think he knows."

* * *

><p>It still felt like a dream even when she saw the truck. The thing was a beaut - fresh paint shining in the noon sun. There wasn't a dent in it, no wear, no tear. Somehow that thought made her throat tighten. Behind her stood Fowler by the entrance to the secret base she'd never see again, where the truck was.<p>

Nervously, anxiously, Wendy began to turn her head, but she stopped before her eyes could land on the door. She bit her lip and snapped her head back to the truck before her. Her steps were skittish - as if she thought it might suddenly come to life, move on its own, talk to her. It didn't.

Wendy sighed as she gripped the door handle. "Thanks again, Fowler." This time she did glance back to him - but focused on him alone. "If you ever need help with another matter like this one -"

"I'll know who to call." He nodded his head.

With nothing else to say, Wendy realized with a sinking heart there was no more putting it off. Her face was blank as she opened the door and stepped up. The leather was smooth and soft, the wheel firm beneath her hands. It wasn't the same... but it would work.

A turn of the key and it was on. "Sounds all right..." She said mostly to herself. "It'll have to do."

And so she put on the gas and turned out towards the road; finally the need was too great and she couldn't not look. When she glanced back, all she could see was rock. There was no clue that, within that outlandish rockface somewhere, was a base, where an amazing piece of machinery - an amazing friend - remained.

"See you round, big guy," Wendy smiled, even as her heart ached, and felt more hopeful than she had in a long time. So she put her foot on the gas, headed out onto the road to embrace a future she'd never thought she'd have.

* * *

><p>It was a week later, in a truck stop in Arizona, when she got the idea. She was already on a job, taking a load off for the night when she passed the tattoo parlor. She'd never given thought to body art before - never had money for it. Now, she had a good bit in savings, and though she wasn't rich, she was feeling adventurous. Perhaps the recent life changing events she'd survived called for a commemorative mark...<p>

An image from the past floated into her head: a red, geometric face, strange and alien, seen on a steering wheel. Wendy thought about it, trying to recall all the details. She didn't know what it was or why it had been on the truck... but the idea stuck with her.

"Well, why not?" She whispered, stepping into the parlor with a grin. When she left a while later, there was a fist sized bandage on the side of her left shoulder.

In a few months, once it was healed, she would start wearing sleeveless shirts to show it off. When people asked for explanations, she would claim "personal meaning", and smile to herself. It was a talisman, a reminder of what she could do, what she had done, and the only "person" in the world she'd ever opened herself up to.

Her thoughts wandered often to the sentient truck and the three days she'd spent in his company. She didn't know if he was still in Nevada... didn't know anything about him. But she hoped he was doing okay - because, thanks to him, she was, for the first time in her life.


	2. Interrogated

_Wow! I've never had such a quick and positive response to a story before. Thanks so much everyone! _

_Wolf Prime: XD Yep, it was Optimus, of course - and there is another chapter, as you can see. I don't know how long this series will be, but there will be multiple parts._

_Spiritimus Prime: And here it is._

_Matron: I almost made this a one shot, but it spoke to me - I felt like there was more to tell. I hope I continue to impress!_

_GaarasMyBoyzz: Hey! You got it! The tattoo definitely does spell trouble, as you're about to find out..._

_Soului: All your questions shall be answered in this chapter, promise._

_SweetyDreamer: Don't we all love an OC who's not the same seventeen year old, straight, white girl? I always thought it'd be funny for a trucker to fall for Optimus._

_Anodythe: We'll find out more about what happened to Optimus in this part, and Wendy will definitely continue to shine._

_I hope I can live up to all this praise; and I hope you enjoy the next chapter!_

_..._

It was a hot day in North Carolina.

It was times like these when Wendy regretted being a truck driver; times when her job brought her into environments she did not appreciate, extreme heat being one of them. Nearing 100 at eleven in the morning - that was terrible. With a sigh she wiped the sweat from her forehead for the hundredth time and headed for her truck.

At least now the job was over. Now came the vacant emptiness between jobs - the lack of direction, the aimlessness. Times like this when all she wanted to do was get to a bar, have a long drink, and fall asleep in the cab. Least it only ever lasted a few days or so.

Jumping in the cab, Wendy shut the door and grabbed her CD case, unable to stifle a small chuckle as she did. CDs... she laughed at some inside joke.

There were a few more CDs in the case now; she had more money to spend on music, more money to spend on everything, really. A smile came to her face as she put a CD in, proud to know that it hadn't been ripped or illegally downloaded.

She was on her way up.

She began to drive as the music began to play, somewhat lost in her own thoughts. Life had changed a lot in the past couple of months, but in some rather important ways, it had stayed the same.

Her criminal record was wiped clean. There was no need to fear walking into stores, no need to keep an eye out for security cameras - no one was coming after her. The weight of fear which had been ever present for so long was suddenly gone.

Her means of living had risen to the highest it had ever been. Never before had she had spare change, cash to waste - not a lot, but enough to be comfortable buying a new CD or some new clothes. It was... nice.

But then, somethings never changed.

A small frown came to her face when she thought that, her hands gripping the wheel harder. No use dwelling on what couldn't be changed.

A new song began to play. Wendy was too deep in thought to notice, but if she'd been listening, she'd of laughed at the irony.

_2am, where do I begin - Crying off my face again - The silent sound of loneliness - Wants to follow me to bed..._

* * *

><p>High above the truck in which the woman sat was a watcher - a metallic beast with far reaching eyes. A spy; with its great vision it zoomed in on the human, its "eyes" focusing on one distinguishing mark.<p>

A red symbol on her shoulder - a screech, an alarm, sounded to life.

_Target confirmed._

* * *

><p>It was late, the bar was full, and Wendy sat at a back table, alone with a beer and her thoughts.<p>

It seemed ungrateful to not be happier than she was, given the sudden great change in her fortunes - seemed downright rude to not be jumping for joy. But the woman couldn't help feeling a little miffed, a little down trodden. When faced with something so amazing and - and - life changing, it was hard to just let it go and forget about it.

She had dreams about that goddamned truck, the memories replaying throughout the night. How could Fowler expect her to just move on, after learning there was so much more in the world... trucks that could talk... trucks that could care...

Well, it had seemed like it cared. It had protected her. Huffing, Wendy took a big swig of her drink, to help swallow down the ire. It didn't really work.

Another hour of drinking and moping found Wendy finally ready to ditch the place for the night. She stepped out into the dark parking lot - now that the sun was setting, it was a mere 70 degrees - heading towards her truck. No, she wasn't going to drive, that was one law she'd never been stupid enough to break - she just wanted to be alone.

So she stepped into her truck, shut and locked the door, then let her head fall back with a heavy sigh.

"Buck up, girl," The driver told herself before opening her eyes. Then she gave a high pitched shriek, reaching a shrill note her even voice hardly ever came close to.

There was a gigantic metal thing on the hood of her car.

It - It - It was grey, as broad and wide as the truck, with beady eyes and - was that a beak? It looked like some kind of mutant robot bird; and sure enough, gave a shrill squawk that sounded like one, too.

"God damn!" The woman jumped in her seat, instinctively pulling her legs up into the chair, away from it. "The fuck is this shit!"

The thing turned its head, following her movements, before tapping its beak on the glass. To Wendy's relief, nothing happened. Then it tapped again, just once, but very, very hard. The whole thing turned into a spider's web.

"Shit," Wide eyed, the woman reached for her belt, removing her gun just as the bird broke through the window. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

With each blast the bird gave a grating cry and fell back, until it tumbled off the hood, but it was far from beaten. Knowing she had just moments to move, Wendy leapt out of the truck and raced away, not sure where she was running, moving on instinct.

"First a talkin' truck... now I'm living Attack of the Birds..." Grimacing, she turned a corner down the street into an alley, where she hoped the street would be too narrow for the bird. It was; but instead of giving up, it flew above the builds, squawking and constantly hovering over her.

Her eyes dove around for an answer, perhaps a door, or another path - though why she didn't turn the truck on and run over it earlier, she didn't know. Mentally kicking herself for letting her fears get the better of her, Wendy kept running, ducking down narrow side streets.

On and on she ran, glancing skyward every so often, only stopping when it seemed she'd finally lost him - a grin on her face, she looked back to the road ahead -

And saw a giant hand.

"Ooooooshit!" Screaming, she slid to a halt, hardly able to believe her eyes, knowing only she had to put it in reverse and run the other way. But something went wrong - something she hadn't seen, too caught up in the_ oh fuck, oh fuck_ train of thought - pain and darkness - black out.

* * *

><p>The first thought that entered her head when she came back around was, <em>I had to be plastered to come up with that shit.<em>

When her heavy eyelids opened, the world was still dark. Everything was cold and hard - and with a startled jump, she realized her hands were bound behind her back, feet too. She was lying in the dark, almost completely immobilized, with no idea of where she was.

She sat up with a grunt, wrenching her arms, straining to see in the dark. Nothing she did helped. For a brief moment she considered calling out, but somehow Wendy figured anyone who'd answer her probably didn't have her best interests in mind. _ Better to let 'em think I'm still sleepin'._

That idea was trashed in a millisecond.

BRRRRM-_ksssh_. A flare of light blinded her and she hissed and winced. BRRRM-_kthch_. The light was gone, and she was no longer alone.

_Don't panic. Don't panic. Panic gets you killed._

There was silence for at least five minutes - agonizing, annoying silence, in which Wendy knew she was being tested, and damn it to hell if she would give in. Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath and tried blocking it all out, imagining herself as being anywhere but there...

_A good place... somewhere safe, a good memory..._

From her childhood up, she tried to come up with one... during her youth, traveling with her father... but those memories were tainted with the knowledge of how twisted that relationship would become... memories with her mother dulled by time... her teenage years held only bitterness... and the years after, only hardship. So it was she came to imagining herself in that truck, driving towards Nevada, having someone to talk to for the first time in her life...

"You are either very brave... or very foolish."

The disembodied voice had a point - she did feel like a fool; a fool for drinking so late, a fool for running from her car - but not brave, not at all. That voice had her trembling from a mix of terror and anger, anger at it and at herself.

It was a slick voice, somewhat smooth but sharp, putting listeners on edge, like nails on a chalkboard. It was a voice pretending to be pleasant, which made it all the more grating.

Darkness still surrounded her, made her ill at ease, afraid of what could come from any corner. BOOM. She jumped at the first great noise, and grew alarmed by each successive sound.

The booming echo of what could only be footsteps threw her for a loop. What was this guy wear, steel boots? The images of what such things could do to delicate skin made her stomach crawl. Wincing, Wendy clenched her teeth and forced her fear down.

"G - Get to the part where you tell me what the hell's going on."

A chuckle. "Spunky. A somewhat common trait in you humans. Or is that impertinence?"

His words were confusing, obviously meant to throw her off. "Still not clarifying."

"You seem to be under the delusion that you are in control of this situation." A very heavy pause. "Do not test my patience, flesh bag."

Flesh bag? That was a new one. She didn't voice her sarcastic opinion since she pretty much figured her health and perhaps her life hinged on her ability to keep her mouth shut. The person laughed again.

"You're catching on, good. From now on, you'll speak when spoken to."

She decided not to point out she had, in fact, been replying to his statements - seemed like it wouldn't be in her best interests. So she waited, trying to calm her hammering heart, ignore her sweaty palms, her gasps of breath.

"You are afraid. You should be." He sounded all too pleased to know she was suffering. "Honestly, I wonder how you didn't realize this would be inevitable. What did you think would happen, parading around with _that_ on your arm?"

_What? _ The strangeness of that comment almost freed her from her fear momentarily, her brows furrowing. What did her arm have to do with anything? And what was on her arm... the tattoo?

"It's just a tattoo..." Wendy whispered, and before she'd even finished, SLAM! The echoing thunder of metal on metal hit her like lightning, had her jumping into the air and letting out a half-scream.

"DO NOT PLAY COY WITH ME!" He screeched, his annoying voice reaching decibels that drove it just over the edge of ear-bleeding pitch. "I know you're one of them - and unless you wish to suffer unimaginable pain, you will tell me everything you know."

There were quite a few eyebrow raising problems in those statements. For one, he sounded like he meant business, which sent Wendy's heart pumping into overdrive. Two, she had no idea what he meant by 'one of them', and no clue why she'd been attacked. Which meant she couldn't answer any of his questions - which would lead to pain.

_Fuck!_

"Look - I truly don't know what -"

A low growl made her throat dry and her voice quit on her.

"Very well. If that is how you want to play it..."

Eyes widening, mouth dropping open as she began to breath faster, Wendy thought for one second of begging. Her pride wouldn't let her: she was terrified, but not quite to the point where she'd forget herself, her values, her morals. Gritting her teeth, she closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable -

they flew back open when she was suddenly lurched through the air, her arms pulled taut and throbbing as the metal cuffs tore at her skin. From what she could tell, she'd been lifted by a chain attached to her cuffs, pulling hard on her arms. It felt like they'd break, be ripped from the sockets.

Suddenly - PAIN. The metal flew at her and SLAM throes of agony overtook her as she slammed into the surface, screaming at the sudden tremors taking over her body. Her arms creaked and cracked, shivering with pain, blobs of black and blue blurring her vision.

"AGGHHH!"

There was only a brief reprieve before she was hoisted up again, held by her arms, prompting another shout as they were jostled.

"Have you changed your mind?"

Through lidded eyes, blurred by tears and spots in her vision, Wendy glanced towards the direction of the voice. In that quick experience of pain she knew - she wouldn't live through this. This person would hurt her until she spoke, and since she had no idea what she was supposed to know, she wouldn't even be capable of spilling the beans. Even if she did, Wendy knew... she'd be killed. Cutting loose ends and all. A haunting, twisting feeling rose in her, as if she was a ghost already, - already dead, but trapped in the mortal plane.

There had been many close calls in Wendy's life, many dark and seemingly inescapable ends, but none had been as hopeless and final as this. Shocked and trapped in a dark room who-knew-where, with a tormenter asking questions she couldn't answer.

There was, really, only one thing to do. She knew nothing, could answer nothing - and she was screwed, anyway.

"Go fuck yourself."

* * *

><p>It was with a sense of quiet remorse and reluctant acceptance that Wendy truly realized she was not likely to escape this in one piece, or even somewhat painlessly. But she did not mourn her impending death at all. No; tears stung her eyes, trailed down her bruised face for another reason entirely, one not unlike what she'd been thinking in the bar. Despite her change in fortune, despite her newfound freedom, there was a gaping hole in her life. An emptiness no amount of money or security could fill.<p>

No family, and no friends, no one who knew her or cared for her. Nobody would notice she vanished in the night, nobody would realize she'd been taken. And when she died, no one would mourn her or miss her, or even know her just enough to think of her from time to time. There would be no grave, no memorial, just an empty semi truck with a bunch of suitcases.

Dying in the dark did not make her cry. Dying alone - truly and completely alone, for the better part of her life - brought her to tears. No one even knew she was gone.

She was alone - and there would be no rescue.

* * *

><p>It was some time later that a thundering boom shook the ground, echoing like an earthquake, forcing her captor to pause his incessant question-and-punish session. Blood was leaking out of her mouth, a bad sign, but the woman seemed unperturbed.<p>

"Slag..." The person grunted, and Wendy vaguely and deliriously wondered what a 'slag' was. "I'll be back."

The door opened and closed again, blinding her, and he left her.

Wendy didn't know if that was good or not. Alone meant no pain - but also no distraction from the turmoil inside. Luckily she was on the ground again, her arms finally free of the taut pulling of the chain - BOOM, BOOM. She jumped and winced when the pain ran up her body. Was he back already?

More noises, thumps and beats. " - you are so clumsy!"

"Sorry!"

Horror choked her throat. _No, it couldn't be -_

"Is this the right place?"

"Of course it is! It screams 'interrogation room'."

Children's voices. Slowly, surely, Wendy pulled herself up, unsure if her voice would work or not.

"Rrrgh..." It hurt at first - blood bubbled up in her mouth and she choked again. On the second try it worked. "R - Run! Get out of here!"

"Yep, right place!"

"Listen to me!" It hurt every inch of her to say anything but she had to. "If ya don't get outta here -"

"We're about to, - and you're coming with!"

There was more noise, shuffling about - they were coming from her right, not from the enormous door.

The commotion of many sets of footsteps came from that direction, coming closer, until they were right next to her and a hand came over hers. Wendy couldn't help the sharp wince of pain - the hand immediately retracted.

"Sorry," A teenage boy's voice. "Don't worry... we're getting you out of here."

"Less talking, more saving!" A hyperactive girl, who moved to her right side and started pulling at the cuffs on her feet.

This was surreal - impossible. No one was supposed to save her, much less two teenage -

"Here, Miko, I've got it,"

make that three teenagers placing themselves in harm's way for a woman more than likely already doomed.

There was some rattling, the bustling noise of work, as Wendy sat back in a state of mindless blood loss, only able to think that these kids were in trouble, what if he came back -

"Y - You - go." She spat. "Need - to go!"

"What's up with her?"

"Remember when we saved Fowler from Starscream?" The boy said. "Same thing..."

"Ouch."

"Please..."

She was hearing children but unable to see anything, the room too dark and her vision too faded besides. She heard children but in her mind's eyes saw something else.

"Get out! D - Don't die cause of me..." Coughing up blood she grasped her throat, not even realizing her arms were suddenly free to move. "Don't die..."

In her head she was elsewhere, both in space and time, seeing an image from a nightmare from a memory that replayed constantly in her mind.

"D - Don't die... don't kill him..."

"What's she mumbling about?"

"It doesn't matter, let's just get out of here."

They lifted her to her feet, and the sudden pain jolted her from her half dream, if only partially. "What... who are you?"

"We're friends." The younger sounded boy spoke up. "We'll get you out of here, that's a promise."

A half hearted chuckle. "Don't know what good that'll do ya... I'm halfway to hell already. Better off... gettin' out by yourselves..."

"No way!" The girl screeched in her ear. "We'll all get out, get you to see a doc, and it'll all be fine, you'll see!"

Wendy smirked a little, trying to see things like this girl was, and finding it very hard. Pain wracked her whole body, especially her gut, and her throat burned. Once again her vision blurred, and dizziness overcame her. If it weren't for the kids holding her, she'd of fallen.

It seemed like they were talking again but she couldn't hear them at all, couldn't understand a word - were they moving? What was... going on...

_..._

_The sun s bright too bright so bright she can't see_

_When or where is this_

_Confusion, glancing left and right and there is her father. He is driving they are in a truck everything is normal_

_Except this truck is strange, odd, there is a red symbol on the wheel, its on her arm, too. Suddenly a gun is in her face_

"_Traitor," Says her father, "You betrayed me,"_

"_I'm sorry papa, I didn't -"_

_But before she can say it, he vanishes with the truck, and she is alone in an expanse of white. Where is she now? Why is she here? Why can't she remember..._

"_Careful. If ya don't watch it, yer face might get stuck that way."_

_It was a voice from a distant dream... she surely knew and recognized it, but it had been so long since she'd heard it... Proclamations of "impossible" and "can't be" raced through her head. Without realizing it Wendy turned herself towards the voice. _

_It is her - looking just as she had. Features Wendy had forgotten are now sharp and clear as day; the blonde hair, the ponytail, the proud stance and confident smile._

"_Now," She murmurs softly, "Is that any way to greet yer mama?"_

_Shock - fear - sadness assault her all at once, this can't be. Her mother nods as if to say, "Yes, it can". She walks towards Wendy slowly, giving her time to adjust, until "mama" stands just a hair's breath away._

_A trembling hand comes towards her face but doesn't quite make it. "Oh may baby girl..." Her voice trembles too, soft like summer rain. "Mah greatest regret is leavin' yah so soon."_

_It begins to sink in that this is happening - either in some surreal dream, or the edges of the afterlife as her body gives way. Shaking, Wendy presses her cheek to her mother's hand._

"_I've missed you," She whispers, "S - So much."_

_There is sorrow and pride both in her mother's watery eyes. Another hand rises and both cradle her cheeks as tears finally fall down them. "Look at you." Her mother wonders incredulously. "How old are you now?"_

"_T - Twenty-nine, ma'am."_

_The elder mouths the words as if she can't believe them. "How long its been... and haven't you just sprung outta the ground like a corn stalk. My lord..." Two thumbs brush her tears away, and Mrs. Martin smiles brightly. "I am so proud, so proud of you... I know you've suffered your bit, but now's when it all comes together. Don't be scared, now. Lot's gonna change, but yur a tough girl, you'll get through." Then she leans over, presses her lips to her daughter's forehead. "I love ya, babe."_

_That statement shatters what is holding her back - the usually stoic woman breaks into sobs. "I love you, mama." They embrace tightly, squeezing the air out of each other, daughter pressing her head against her mother's neck._

"_Am I dead, ma?"_

_She feels the woman shake her head and chuckle. "A bit dense, ain't cha? After everythin' ah just said - not yet darlin', not for a long time yet." Now she leans away. "Still got a lot ahead of ya... it'll be hard, but ah know you'll get through."_

_Something shifts... colors blur and change, and Wendy begins to feel light headed. "Mama?"_

"_Take care, sweet heart." There are unshed tears in her eyes again, but she smiles through them. That motherly gaze hardens, her tone hardens, and in that moment, Wendy sees the fiery, headstrong woman who raised her. "Don't ya dare come back for a long time."_

_Then she was gone._

_..._

Reality flared back to life.

Huffing, panting, gasping for breath, Wendy's eyes snapped open to a blinding flash of light - then brightness cleared and changed into form, into iron and steel.

"Ugggh... what hit me?" Brief flashes of memory brought it back again.

"Yay! She's awake!" Now Wendy could see the three would-be rescuers - and they were just as young as she'd imagined.

"Not that I'm not grateful," She began weakly as they walked. "But isn't it past y'all's bedtimes?"

"Hey! Don't pick on your saviors!" The girl, holding Wendy's right side, spat.

"I'm not pickin' - just wonderin' what kids are doin' involved in dangerous things like this." With a grunt of effort she made it through a spasm of pain. "Do your parents know where y'all are?"

"Mine doe." The boy holding her right arm said.

"Yeah, well, my parents are in Japan, so they have nooo idea!" The girl grinned, turning towards Wendy. "I'm Miko, that's Jack -"

"And I'm Rafael." The little boy ahead of them stated.

"Gwendolyn." Wendy muttered. "Now... do y'all have a plan, or is this a seat of the pants kinda thing?"

"There is a plan," Jack assured her hesitantly. "It's just subject to change without notice." Suddenly a great rumble shook the area, and dust fell from the floor.

"Well... let's git before that bastard comes back."

"I second that!" With Miko's shout they began to move faster, the teens holding most of Wendy's weight.

The dark abyss of halls they were walking through finally ended, and they came out... on top of a... For all extents and purposes it looked like one of those sci-fi space ships, enormous and sharp, full of jagged black edges. Mouth agape, Wendy scanned the surface, the intricate build, the alien shapes - and as her gaze rose, her mouth fell lower, and her mind was wiped blank of coherant thought. "Oh my god..."

Giant robots. Giant robots standing on a giant ship - all towering above them, even the smallest incredibly huge. These metallic monstrousities were battling, flying at each other both literally and figuratively, tearing each other apart with blasts of energy and physical prowess. Huge hands tore at huge bodies, giant mouths snarled at opponents, and the world shook with each pounding step.

"What the fucking hell is going on?" Wendy gasped out in one quick breath, ignoring the insistent tug on her arm.

"We'll explain later, but we've really got to go!" Jack kept trying to pull her away, but Wendy's feet were planted, her eyes glued to the sight before her. She couldn't move if she wanted to.

Pistons and gears turning beneath metal skin... her mind whirled with the realization of what was before her. Giant robots. Giant robots, right out of a Japanese cartoon.

Two arms were now pulling at her and she was so stunned she hardly noticed she was moving backwards. Her eyes flitted from 'bot to 'bot - there was a fast yellow one who fought like a boxer, dancing about the roof of the ship to avoided the blows coming from a spider like female bot. Sharp spider arms jabbed at him as he ducked and weaved, masterfully moving about the battlefield.

Suddenly a blue female bot, smaller even than the yellow one, raced towards the spider, rage plain on the sharp features of her face. Blades popped out of her arms as she leapt into the air, descending towards the spider with a yell.

The booming sound of two bots colliding did not come from them, though - when she heard that noise, Wendy jumped, eyes flying to two truly huge bots grappling with each other, one green, one blue, gritting their teeth and pushing against each other with all their weight. _What is this? Robot death match?_

A hand came into her line of vision. "Earth to human!" It was Miko. "We gotta go!" Finally Wendy came back to herself, nodding and turning to follow the group. They were running towards some shiny blue space ahead, like a giant paint spot on the air.

But as they ran something caught her eye, in the corner of her vision. There were more robots to the right, and as she ran, Wendy turned to look at them. There were a few purple ones that looked vaguely the same, and they were all attacking the same imposing figure.

He was perhaps the tallest of all the towering forms, and very broad shouldered as well. Despite that, his lower body was slim, long thighs tapering into thick blue calves. A huge chest - which on a human would probably have been rippling with muscles - made him look as indestructible as a tank, and almost looked like the grill of a truck. If any of these beings were to intimidate her, it was this one. And yet... there was something familiar... Wendy's movements began to slow.

The whine of a jet came from the sky - her eyes shot up to see an airplane descending towards the ship, at the spot where the blue and red bot stood. It came closer, closer, almost too closer, until - it broke.

That was the only word for what she was seeing. Suddenly its form broke, its surface shattering into tiny moving pieces, which twisted and changed and morphed into a new shape until another walking, talking robot was standing on the ship with them.

Wendy gave a little, frightened squeak of "what the hell kind of movie did I walk into" before Miko pulled her into running again. Her eyes didn't leave the two bots - the silver one began to talk and the trucker gave a gasp.

_I know that voice!_

She couldn't really understand the conversation over the wind and the din of battle but it was definitely the same voice that had asked her so many questions earlier. She'd never forget it.

Her head finally turned to look ahead as she ran, her thoughts zooming a mile a minute, putting piece and piece together, thinking over everything that led to the moment she was in just then. The kidnapping, the torture, the escape, and the battle... the questions about the symbol on her arm... glancing back, she saw that symbol on many of the robots. Her eyes danced from one red face to another, over and over. The same one that had been on the truck...

In her mind's eye she saw the plane changing again... she flipped around suddenly to look at the robots again, ignoring Jack's annoyed grunt and Miko's insistent tugging.

"I know they're cool, but we gotta get you to Ratchet for repairs, stat!" She said. Wendy didn't hear her.

The spider bot was still fighting the blue one (where the yellow one went, she didn't know), and as Wendy watched them dance across the ship, she saw the spider leap into the air and complete the same change as the plane. In a blink of an eye there was a helicopter where the spider had been, flying into the air only to turn and shoot at the blue bot.

Said bot flipped backwards, - but landed on the ground as a motorcycle, which sped off.

Wendy's mind was racing as she finally listened to the teens and turned around again. They were almost to the pearly blue... thing, and the trucker was finally putting two and two together to make four.

Now, in her head, she saw the tall blue robot again, which had a strange grill like a truck, and the red symbol on him like the others... and she remembered the truck, and its red and blue coloring, its red symbol, - and she saw the transformations the others made.

_I bet I know what you turn into._

And with that closure, that realization, Wendy planted her feet for the final time. She did not turn, not yet, simply stood stock still, fists clenched, eyes narrowed. The teens even ran another minute before realizing she'd stopped.

A few more thoughts raced through her head as she slowly turned to see the red and blue one, completely surrounded by the purple bots and the silver one who'd beat the tar out of her. The conflagration of her rage was growing by the second.

It was when she saw one of them attack him from behind, (during a moment of conversation between the silver one and him, a cheap distraction), that it finally boiled over. In one slick move, Wendy ducked, reached into her boot, removed something, and then spun on her heel and rushed like the wind across the metal surface.

"LEAVE HIM THE FUCK ALONE!"

The 'something' was a knife - Wendy could only be grateful they took her gun and did not think to check her for anything else. The woman raced towards the circle, knowing she couldn't do much, and planning on making her little bit count. Instinctively she went for the silver one, the apparent leader, (though perhaps part of her reasoning was an act for revenge). They hadn't heard her battle cry, luckily, and thus were unprepared for the onslaught from below.

So, when she was right behind the silver one, she climbed onto the front of his foot, crawled up to where the "heel" met the rest of his leg, and stabbed the knife into the tiny space which, on a human, might have been a joint.

The howl of pain made her smirk - and as she began jiggling it around, thrusting it further and deeper, the howl became a shriek which pleased her. _ Tit for tat, asshole_. The ground shook and thunder hurt her ears when he could no longer stand from the pain - and the movement threw Wendy off, hitting the metal surface with a heavy thunk. It might not have hurt so much if not for all the earlier wounds.

Grimacing, Wendy forced her eyes open, only to see eerie red lights glowering at her. Yep, he was definitely suffering. "Y - You pathetic little flesh bag! How dare you!" The woman rushed to stand, holding the knife in position, eyes flashing side to side for the other purple bots. Where'd they go?

"Whaaahhooooh!" What had started as the beginning of a sentence (What?) became a slightly disturbed cry (oooooh!) when Wendy suddenly found she was leaving the ground and rising steadily into the air. What was holding her?

"Face it, Starscream - it's over. You've lost."

The voice which said those words was the most masculine, most resonating baritone Wendy ever heard - rumbling and powerful in its intensity. It was coming from right behind her, and honestly, the woman was slightly afraid to turn and find out what was saying it.

The kneeling robot grimaced before turning into a plane and soaring into the sky. Wendy watched him go, feeling a great sense of accomplish - which was only mildly dimmed by the anxiety and fear choking her gut.

Hands. Enormous metal hands were holding her aloft. Nervous, Wendy gripped the giant digits for all she was worth, glancing at the ground as if it were a thousand feet below instead of, perhaps, 20. The hands began to move - Wendy chuckled nervously, watching them with trepidation, but they only turned her towards their owner, gently moving her small form in the palm of his right hand.

Then they were face to face.

Blue and silver greeted her: a silver mask covering the lower face, just beneath a set of brilliant crystalline... "eyes". Around the face was, for lack of a better term, blue "hair" - robot hair, sort of. What would of been hair on a human, but was more of a helmet for a giant robot. Blue and somewhat sculpted, with sharp edges and rugged lines.

But it was the "eyes", the bright shimmering stars that seemed to look right into her soul, deep and resounding, filled with ageless wisdom, understanding, and sorrow.

A gasp of released pressure, and suddenly the mask split and disappeared, revealing the rest of the silver face and a thin, smooth pair of lips. Wendy tried not to gape (it was impolite, and her ma taught her better), but, well, she'd never seen a giant robot so up close and personal.

But, this wasn't just a giant robot. Not. At. All.

And when she remembered that, her fear began to fade, her heartbeat slow, her confidence soar and she gave a small smile. As this occurred, the robot held her, eyes transfixed on her, but slightly wavering, and his form shifted every so often ... if she didn't know better, she'd think he was a tad nervous. That made her feel better.

"Been a while." She murmured, leaning back on his hand as exhaustion took over. When she smiled, his eyes lit back up, and he slowly returned it.

* * *

><p>"I want the whole story. From the beginning."<p>

And she got it - boy did she. She got the whole damn thing, from the mouths of about ten different bots and humans - from the very start, each adding their own two cents as their "parts" popped up. It went from the start of a intergalactic war... to a young man being "kidnapped" by a living motorcycle... to the many adventures of the robots and their human companions, fighting both the evil bots, and the evil humans.

She learned their names: Bumblebee, Arcee, Bulkhead, Ratchet, and Optimus Prime. She learned their faction, the Autobots, learned about their race, their world, their creed, and their impossible struggle.

And yet, after more than an hour of being brought into the "know", she still didn't quite understand one thing.

"So how the hell'd I get involved?"

Here the story paused; the storytellers glanced around, looking from one to another, perhaps trying to think of how best to tell this part.

The red and blue mech - Optimus, stepped forward. "I... required assistance."

Ratchet gave a sputter. "You required an overhaul, Prime. What a disaster. At the moment we needed it most, the ground bridge failed."

"You mean, your teleportation thingawhasit?" Wendy asked, crossing her arms and glancing at the great circle in the center of the Autobot base.

"Yes. It malfunctioned during a battle with the Decepticons." Disgusted, Ratchet continued with a grimace. "It was never the same after the scraplets. I was the only one present at base, and thus, the only one here to help repair it."

"The rest of us had been in the thick of it, battling with cons!" Miko cheered with a cheeky grin. But it faded to a half smile. "But that meant we were stuck in Georgia with no way to get back quick."

"And Optimus was pretty bad off. After we beat the cons and they ran off, MECH found us." Arcee crossed her arms and grimaced. "We beat them back, but all of us were worn out by then. And without transport, we were in trouble."

"Optimus most of all. He was on the verge of system failure!" The medic proclaimed loudly and angrily, as if Optimus had done it on purpose just to spite him. "And without immediate medical assistance -"

"In other words, we couldn't wait around for the bridge to be fixed." Arcee interrupted. "We had to get moving."

"We all had drivers. I had Miko, Bee had Raf, -"

"Aren't they a little young to drive?" Wendy cocked an eyebrow.

"It's about the illusion, not the truth. As long as no one on the highway sees a car driving itself, no one bats an eye." Fowler explained. "And if one of them got in trouble, I could deal with it."

"But the problem was Optimus." Ratchet took over again, his tone falling into a serious depth. "The team was much too spent to fight many more battles - and Optimus was in no shape to fight at all. We had to find a way to sneak him across the country, to try and keep MECH off his trail."

"That's where you came in." Fowler stepped towards her, gesturing. "We needed a good driver, but someone questionable enough that they wouldn't try and put their nose where it didn't need to be, for fear of raising questions about their own background." Then he seemed to glare half heartedly at her, as if saying she had, in fact, been poking around. "Then, the other, stronger bots could distract MECH while Optimus made a run for it."

"It was risky, but it was all we had without the ground bridge." Bulkhead heaved a sigh. "We trusted him with you and all split up."

"So that's why you hired me. Camouflage." It was beginning to make sense... somewhat. "But MECH found us anyway."

"That... would be my fault." Bulkhead grumbled. The teenage girl standing on the platform beside him patted his armor. "We all had our tracking systems on Optimus, to keep an optic on him, but they were disengaged most of the time to keep MECH from tracing it."

"And what did he do?" Ratchet spat out. "He activated it right in front of their noses!"

"Not on purpose! Miko slipped -"

"And _why_ was she not wearing a _seat belt_?"

"Anyway -" The girl in question raised her voice to try and interrupt the fight. "That's the whole story." She turned towards Wendy and grinned. "Any questions?"

She did have some, actually, but instead of asking them, the woman shifted on her feet. A ton of questions were circling around in her head, almost stifling her mind, but she was growing uncomfortable with all these eyes on her. Wendy wasn't fond of being the center of attention.

"Uh, nah... I'm all right, I guess." She finally mumbled.

"Well, I'm not." The irritated robot medic growled. "I don't understand how they could have discovered you. We made sure you didn't see our true forms - kept you in the dark mostly - all to keep you from getting involved and becoming a target. And what happens?" His voice grew shrill as he threw his arms up. "We covered your tracks perfectly - they should never have realized -"

"I think - I can... explain that..." During the course of their conversation, Wendy had kept her hand closed over the mark on her shoulder, to hide it. The others must have thought she was in pain, and dismissed it. At this point, embarrassment over her mistake made her face heat up. "See, well - I'm to blame, not y'all. After that road trip I was - well - different. I felt like I'd grown, er somethin'. So I wanted to remember it, so - I, uh, got a tattoo."

Some of the faces in the room were still confused, while a few seemed to be on the verge of understanding. Then, Wendy lowered her hand. Gasps and groans filled the room - followed by a few delayed laughs.

"Wow!" Miko was enthralled, rushing off the platform to join her on the ground. Bug eyes stared in fascination. "Awesome! I want one!" Bulkhead's resounding "No!" made her groan.

"You - tattooed the Autobot symbol onto your arm?" Asked Arcee incredulously.

"So that's what it is!" Through her excited proclamation, Wendy heard heavy groans of disbelief, along with a few sputtering laughs. "Oh, shut yer pie holes! I saw it on the truck - err, that is, ... Oliver?"

"Optimus." Was it just her, or was the bot smiling when she turned to look at him? She gave a halfhearted, nervous smile back.

"Right. I saw it on his wheel, and I thought, well, why not?"

"'Why not'? 'Why not'?" Ratchet gave a cry. "I'll tell you why not! You've practically announced to the world - and all our enemies - that you are an Autobot!"

"Hey!" Taking offence, Wendy crossed her arms. "If I'd ah known I was gonna git kidnapped 'n tortured -"

"Tortured?" Oops. Apparently they hadn't known that part - it must've slipped the kids minds. The room grew deathly quiet and Wendy suddenly felt awkward again.

"Hey, it's fine. It was nuthin' -" But a pair of hands grabbed her lightning quick (and surprisingly gently) anyway.

"I will be the judge of that." Ratchet muttered as he walked towards the med bay, grumbling about foolish humans.

And so Wendy was introduced to the world of the Autobots.

* * *

><p>It took two days in the med bay under the careful eyes of both Ratchet and Mrs. Darby (Jack's mother, a nurse) for Wendy to be considered healthy again. Luckily she was not terribly injured, just exhausted and in a great deal of pain. So, she remained in bed, resting, hopped up on pain meds, able to put life on hold for a while.<p>

A very good thing, because the trucker definitely needed some time for thought and reflection. In the course of a few days her life had changed even more than it had before - into something she could hardly identify. There were many questions still to ask, some about her life now, some about the Autobots, but she was a tad nervous asking. She still didn't know the Autobots or the kids well, though they all seemed to walk on eggshells around her.

Apparently they were all extremely grateful to her for saving their leader - because they liked to remind her of it at least once a day. Not an hour went by when a human or bot thanked her, helped her, went out of their way to assist her, or tried to comfort her. It was disconcerting, really. Wendy had lived most of her life alone, and to be suddenly bombarded with "others" put her on edge. Mostly she feigned sleep and remained quiet.

There was one person - er, bot - she _was_ rather eager to talk to.

But... something kept her back. A mix of nervous fear and doubtful anxiety. Wendy really did want to speak to the Peterbilt-turned-living-robot who she had once thought of as her only "friend"... only now to realize it really was a living being, a enormous being millions of years older than her.

So it came to be that Wendy was released from bed rest and faced with a lot of unanswered questions and only one way to answer them.

Still, she stepped into the command center slowly, glancing around with jittery eyes. "Uh, ... hello?" It seemed empty. She stepped in further and found there was, in fact, no one. Disappointed, she gave a huff and sat on one of the stairs leading up the platform.

Her disappointment did not last long - the booming echo of robotic footsteps found her ears, and she perked up. From around the corner came the exact Autobot she'd been thinking of.

It was still surreal to try and equate the Peterbilt she'd grown so fond of to the towering mech standing before her. Sometimes, she found herself thinking of all the thoughts and feelings she'd shared with that truck, things no one else in the world knew, and grew embarrassed to think she'd been talking to a living, breathing thing. Not a government experiment robot, like she'd thought - but an alien from outer space.

The idea that Optimus knew so much about her made her nervous. She was not a talkative, emotional person, and would not have said a word in that cab if she'd known it was alive. But... the "truck" she'd come to know those three days had been kind, thoughtful, protective... if a bit rebellious when it came to country music. What had she constantly called him? Right, a gentleman. Well, she figured the correct term now was "gentle-bot", but it was still very true. Just from looking at the way he held himself amongst others, how he spoke to them, Wendy knew she was looking at a southern gentleman, whether or not Optimus knew it.

As her thoughts took a comtemplative direction, Optimus came further into the room, until his widening optics fell on the woman lost in thought.

"Gwendolyn?"

Surprised, the woman sat up and looked at him. "Uh.. G'mornin'."

He smiled at that. "You are feeling better?"

She stood the woman nodded, brushing herself off. "A hell of a lot better, truth be told." As her hands fell back to her sides stiffly, she felt her nerves rise back up her throat. How to go about this? "Uh..."

Optimus, too, seemed to feel a bit awkward. It was funny to watch him glance away nervously, like a human would, only to glance back a moment later.

"Ms. Martin..." He finally said. "Would you... like to go for a drive?"

That wasn't really what she'd been expecting to her. But, to her surprise, Wendy found a grin making its way to her face.

"Sure. Lead the way."

* * *

><p>It was fascinating to watch a car drive itself.<p>

Wendy sat in the driver's seat, wide eyes staring as the stick and the wheel moved on their own. After a minute she gave a soft chuckle. "Don't think I'll ever be used to this."

To her surprise, Optimus gave a chuckle that echoed through the cab - the tone vibrating through the metal, through the seat she sat in. It was a strange feeling. "I suppose this must be very strange for you, having driven your whole life."

The look on her face dimmed a little - Wendy nervously fidgeted her fingers against the seat, running them along the seams. "About the... that journey; does anybody else know... what I told you?" She muttered, eyes downcast.

"What you shared with me then is known to me alone. It is not mine to tell." Her mood lifted, eyes raising to the radio. "Your secrets are safe."

A relieved sigh escaped her. "Thanks, ah, Optimus. For that, and for all the help you've given me. Without y'all, I'd be good as dead."

"You forget that the debt was mine to begin with. I owe you a great deal."

Laughing, she shook her head. "I think you've paid that back n' then some. So how bout we wipe the slate clean?"

He laughed a little too. "Very well."

It didn't take long to make it to the tiny town of Jasper. Out of the corner of her eye Wendy saw a familiar sight - a gas station.

"Ya mind if we take a quick stop?" She asked; no sooner than she did, Optimus pulled into the parking lot. "Thanks, big guy."

The door opened for her - luckily no on was watching - and as she stepped down a strange feeling of nostalgia washed over her. For a moment she was on the road again, her only companion a surprisingly understanding Peterbilt, driving across country on the ride of her life. In a flash she felt the same things she had then - and found herself smiling. To think, she thought she'd never see it again! Now, reunited, she found there was much more than meets the eye to the red and blue truck.

There was a bounce in her step as she went into the mart, buying some things to eat and drink, some smokes, a lighter, just the essentials. With her small bag in tow, she went back to Optimus and made another request.

"You think we could go somewhere we could talk? Someplace you can be yourself?" She asked as she shut the door. "I've still got some questions... and I'd rather not ask a truck, no offense."

"I understand. I believe I know a place."

Another ten minutes of driving and they were out of Jasper, out in the vacant, arid land, standing on an outcropping near a canyon. Wendy stepped out and quickly backed away, and immediately the sound of shifting metal greeted her ears. It was a wonder to watch. Stunned, Wendy stared as Optimus' true form appeared, and then wolf whistled.

"If that ain't the sweetest thing I ever saw..." The bot turned to her, his head slightly cockeyed, his optics wider than usual. Wendy quickly realized this was his confused face. "Somethin' I said?"

"You whistled at me - but my internet searches made me conclude that is a male action done to show appreciation for attractive females." The autobot proceeded to nervously glance down, then back at her. It took a minute for Wendy to realize his thoughts, but when she did, she burst into laughter.

"You thought - oh!" Another bellowing burst of chuckles escaped her. "S - sorry, I just - sometimes we do that to show appreciation for other things, too. Like how amazin' that transformation of yours is."

"Ah." Now he seemed somewhat embarrassed but he hid it well. "My apologies."

Still mirthful, Wendy just shook her head. "It's nuthin'." She sat, placing her legs over the edge. For a minute she simply let her thoughts wander, let her worries fade away. In the distance the sun could be seen nearing the edge of the world, painting Nevada shades of red, orange, and yellow. Moving metal against rock made her look up - Optimus had come to sit by her, one enormous leg bent against his chest, the other tucked under it. It was such a human pose that it struck her; then the whole reason for the trip came back.

_Here goes nothing._ "What happens now?" The woman murmured. She figured there was no reason not to get right to the point.

Optimus had his blue optics trained on the horizon, seemingly inapproachable, though secretly friendly. The kind of person - the kind of bot who was distant until somebody got up the gall to actually say hello. Then the true warmth shone through, hidden by formality, but noticeable still. He did not answer, perhaps because he never got the chance.

"I'm a target now, right? Those - Deceptions -"

"Decepticons."

"Them, they're gonna come after me now 'cause they think I know somethin'. So I'm guessing I can't go on my merry way."

"Correct." The leader nodded.

"So, what then? Get a new identity, move far away? Join some government program?"

But to this he shook his head gravely, optics slightly narrowed. "The Decepticons have technology far beyond your race. You cannot hide from them."

A bit of fear hit her but she swallowed it down. "What are my options?"

She did not know until that moment that Autobots could sigh. "There is only one choice - you will have to remain with us, for your own protection."

And suddenly that fear and slight sadness took a u-turn towards surprise and elation.

"Really?" A small chuckle came from her. "I didn't think - I gotta admit, that's something of a relief."

"It is?"

She nodded. "I figured on bein' taken in by the government, ferried around from place to place - always hidin'. Not my kinda thing. I'd much prefer stayin' here, settling down."

"That seems - unlike you." Optimus muttered hesitantly. "I have not known you long, but you seem to enjoy traveling."

"It's what I'm used to, the only thing I've ever done. But a lot's change." Her eyes danced across the slowly falling star, as its bright yellow faded to a dull red. "I could get used to this."

The conversation died down to silence as both human and transformer eyed the dying sun. It was a beautiful, tranquil scene - something Wendy had not seen often. Sometimes she'd see it through the trees, during a drive, but never had she been able to simple watch. With a relaxed sigh, she reached into her bag and removed her lighter and cigarettes. She lit the end, and lifted it to take the first drag.

Only to find nothing to take a drag from. "Wha - hey!" But by the time she realized it had been snatched right from her hand, Optimus was grinding it to powder between two fingers. "What the hell was that for?"

"These are very unhealthy for you, and completely unnecessary. You are hurting yourself with them." For the first time she saw his face look commanding, like it might when he was giving orders, but she was not cowed.

"It's my choice whether I ruin my body or not!" Okay, so she was trying to quit. But at the moment her least worry was dying of lung cancer. "I'm more likely to die of being stepped on by a big robot than anything else!"

That seemed to lighten his tone and his appearance, as if he was taken aback. "Gwendolyn... trust me when I say I will let no harm to you. As long as you are with the Autobots, you will be safe." He nodded to affirm this, a determined look on his face.

Wendy's irritation could not withstand the sincerity of his declaration, how touching it was to actually have someone worry about her. She wasn't used to being protected. "Thanks, big guy. But call me 'Gwendolyn' one more time and I'm gonna let ya have it." She crossed her arms. "It's 'Wendy', remember?"

At that he smiled. "Of course." Optimus said. "You are safe with us, Wendy."

Wendy attempted to move her pack of cigarettes into her pocket discretely - but she saw Optimus' optics glance to her hand, and narrow.

"Wendy -" Giving up secrecy she grabbed the lighter too and shoved both into her pocket before he could grab them. Then she grinned victoriously up at him.

"What now, huh?" Where this playful side was coming from, the woman wasn't sure - she'd not been close enough to someone to play with them since her mother. But she trusted Optimus. "Looks like I keep the cancer sticks."

At first the mech looked confused, surprised - and then he smirked, an oddly playful look on him, as well. Wendy had a feeling he didn't play around with others much either.

Then she was picked up by large hands. "Hey! Watch it! Whoa!" Two strong fingers slid gently under her arms, while his other hand reached for her pocket. At that angle she couldn't cover it with her hands. "Oh come on!"

A small tool, like a handle, came out of the end of his finger, dove into her pocket, and snatched both the pack and the lighter. "Damn it all to hell!"

Optimus merely chuckled as he set her back down. "They are very bad for you, Wendy."

"Yeah, yeah..." Yes, she was slightly irritated, a bit miffed. But there was a secret part of her that was giddy with the knowledge that someone was looking out for her health. Someone _cared_.

_A very _large_ someone..._

"Where will I live? Here in town?"

"If that is what you want - but given recent events, I believe you would be safer remaining on base. Starscream will not be pleased that you escaped, and eager for another chance." That made sense. "But you are not my soldier. I will not command you to stay at the base."

To that, Wendy's only answer was to raise her sleeve, putting the Autobot tattoo on display. "What'er yer orders, boss?"

* * *

><p>A room of her own.<p>

It was a novelty, being able to walk into a space and considered it hers. Wendy looked up at the warehouse like walls, leading to the tall ceiling. An autobot could easily walk in, though they couldn't walk very far. On the far wall was a mattress and some pillows, with folded up sheets on top. A note sat on them - From the gang, Welcome home!

Home.

Wendy smiled at the scrawled names at the bottom. Jack, Miko, and Rafael - and surely Mrs. Darby and Agent Fowler - and gone shopping for her while she was sick. Next to the bed was an old bookshelf, probably from a yard sale, with a few odds and ends on it: an alarm clock; a few random books; some clothing folded haphazardly; bath things. There was a tall lamp with no shade next to it, and a dresser on the opposite wall. It wasn't much... but just at the sight Wendy's heart swelled.

Fowler had managed to recover her bags, but the truck had been pretty badly damage by the attack. He offered to fix it - she told him not to bother. She had a feeling she'd be looking for a smaller car soon. After all, if she wasn't trucking, she wouldn't need it.

With a pleased grin, she set her bags on the bed and took a seat there as well, ignoring the sharp pain that went up her spine. She was still recovering, but felt much better.

Wendy picked the kids note up again, holding it tight, trying to ignore just how much it meant to her. Three days before she'd thought she was about to die, completely alone - now she knew more people (and mechs) than she'd known her whole life. She didn't know them well, but that was changing. A lot was changing.

A light knock came at the enormous doors to her room. "Come on in." When they opened, the familiar form of Optimus Prime appeared in the doorway.

"Is it satisfactory?"

"Oh, it's real nice," Came the whispered reply; Wendy's eyes still wandered it reverently. "Thank you, Optimus."

"You are welcome."

"Really. I mean it." She stood and looked up at him, opened her mouth as if she had more to say - but paused. "Thank you."

He smiled and began to turn towards the door. "I will leave you to unpacking."

Wendy nodded, turning back to her bag. With a slightly giddy smile forming on her face, she awaited the sound of the door closing. Once it was shut she grinned and fumbled with one of her bags - and out came a lighter and a pack of cigarettes.

"Praise Mary, mother of God!" The woman whispered - and not a moment later, giant hands descended from the sky and snatched both items up like some kind of heavenly messenger. "HEY!"

A lot was changed in Gwendolyn Martin's life - but it was good to know that some things never changed.

* * *

><p><em>More to come!<em>


	3. Arrested

This one is a good deal shorter than the others - but I wanted to get something out before everyone grew bored of waiting. Sorry for the long delay!

...

The shadows were slowly lightening - consciousness of self returning from the land of dreams - eyelids fighting heaviness - once they won the battle, sleepy eyes met a cavernous ceiling, taller than any she'd ever seen -

_Where the -? _She sat up, blinking back sleep, trying to think of where the hell - _oh_.

The veil of sleep was swept back and memory returned, and with it, a big smile. That was right, this was her new home. A strangely giddy feeling entered her chest, swelled her heart, and Wendy quickly threw her feet off the bed. Rushing to the enormous, Transformers sized doors, Wendy placed her hands on them, tried to push them, pulled at the space between. How did these things open again? The woman glanced over and saw a large button.

"There we go," A big grin came to her face as she ran over and punched it.

WRRRRRRR -

The doors came open, and through them came the familiar steady boom of heavy feet. Leaning over, Wendy saw a bulky shape coming around the corner of the hall. She couldn't remember his name, had never even spoken to him personally - nerves came up her throat but she refused to be impolite. When the big guy turned to her, she slowly raised a hesitant hand and waved.

His metallic face smiled, which put her at ease, and then he waved back. His steady footsteps vanished down the hall as Wendy's nerves fell. Her heart soared.

_It's real! If this ain't the coolest thing - _

After taking a moment to breathe and calm down from the excitement, Wendy stepped out of her room - then she took a u-turn, realizing she was in her pajamas. That led to more excitement_. I actually have clothes to sleep in!_ After years of just collapsing in a truck bed in her jeans, pajamas were a nifty thing.

So she got dressed, brushed her teeth, did the usually morning thing - in her own bathroom, added specially for her! - then she left her room.

* * *

><p>Since Wendy had yet to learn the layout of the base, it was a good thing the transformers were making so much noise. All she had to do was follow the commotion to find them. After five minutes she came across the big green one, the female, and the medic in the command center.<p>

"Miko has detention again, so I'll need to pick her up later than usual. I can take a longer shift." The green one said. The medic - Hatchet? Rachel? - nodded.

"That will work."

Then the female patted the green one's shoulder. "Thanks, Bulkhead. I owe you one." Then she turned and headed towards the hall, her eyes falling on Wendy as she walked by.

Swallowing a bit dryly, Wendy gave a nod. "G'mornin'."

Arcee smiled. "Morning."

Their speech made the other two turn around. Wendy approached them as they turned.

"Mornin', um - Bulkhead?" She asked the biggest.

"That's me." He gave a thumbs up.

"And - sorry, I can't -" Flushing scarlet, Wendy addressed the medic.

"Ratchet." Ah! That was it! Embarrassed, Wendy apologized.

"I apologize, I shoulda remembered the name of the bot who took such good care a me." Her sincerity actually made the stern bot crack a small, quick smile, but it vanished in a millisecond.

"You are welcome." Then he spun back around to his terminal. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to return to work." His brisk tone took her by surprise. Glancing at Bulkhead, she saw the green bot roll his optics and shake his head. Wendy shrugged and smiled. As Bulkhead walked away, Wendy approached Ratchet's back.

"Um... forgive my botherin' you, but where are the others?"

He replied without turning. "Optimus and Bumblebee are on a mission. The children are attending school." All of that was said without a break in the clicks of typing.

"Ah." Wendy said, sticking her hands in her pockets, hesitating. "Anythin' I can do to help?"

At that, the bot turned to her. "Though I admit that you humans have assisted us in the past, to my great surprise..." He laid the tone on thick. "I cannot think of anything you can do at this moment." Then Ratchet turned around. "Optimus should be returning soon. If you wish to speak to him."

That actually sounded like a good idea. "Thanks, Ratch." Before the stunned bot could respond to the nickname, Wendy had turned around and begun walking down the hallway to her bedroom.

* * *

><p>With nothing else to do but wait, Wendy took to wandering through the Autobot base, on her own self guided tour. Mostly it was something to do while her thoughts wandered. As her feet took step after step, the woman mulled over the multitude of changes in her life. If she'd thought things had been different just after the three day trip, well, now - they were astronomically different.<p>

Part of her was sad to have lost her living, and the life she'd had traveling. It had been fun. But there were some pluses to this new life - for the first time in a long time, she knew people. Mere acquaintances for the moment, but perhaps friends in the future. She had a home. Though it wasn't really hers, and she wasn't paying the mortgage, it felt nice to have a roof to sleep under each night.

"Another step up in the world," She mumbled as she walked into a large storage space. The boxes of supplies were each half the size of a house; Wendy gave a long whistle and shook her head. "Don't think I'll ever get used to this." She grinned.

Tired of walking, the woman walked over to one of the enormous boxes, grabbing the edge and pulling herself up. Then she laid back against it, arms behind her head, and closed her eyes. With nothing but thoughts for company, Wendy rested her eyes and awaited Optimus Prime's return.

* * *

><p>Many a week would pass in this manner; Wendy awakening to a life of mostly boredom and giant robots, to await Optimus Prime's arrival. If he was on a mission, she would wait his return. If he was working on the base, she would keep him company. It came to the point that one was hardly seen without the other.<p>

At first, to the others, it was somewhat odd. Optimus wasn't known for being friendly, and Wendy seemed hard to approach at best. But, like all the other rather strange human-transformer bonds, it became second nature to expect the two together.

Wendy took Optimus shopping - she needed things for her "apartment", and ended up loading up the semi with all sorts of things: a refrigerator, half a ton of worn jeans and flannel shirts, miscellaneous food, and other odds and ends. Sometimes, Optimus would take Wendy on low key missions, and at her insistence, some of the higher key ones. She insisted her past experience with the 'cons had prepared her for whatever they could try; he preferred playing it safe.

Sometimes Wendy felt useless around base. Around the third week she started searching for a job, but there wasn't much available for an ex-trucker, high school drop out in Jasper, Nevada. So to occupy her time - when she wasn't trailing the boss bot - she took to many different hobbies.

Reading was fine, but Wendy got tired after finishing a book a day. Writing didn't go well - after the first few bad poems, she decided to avoid that, for the most part. She did enjoy drawing and sketching, though she was bad at it. She and Miko would sit in the center of the base and sketch the Autobots as they worked.

Exercise seemed to be her best distraction. Wendy took to running miles through the base, lifting weights, doing exercise routines on DVDs. It burnt her excess energy, calmed her mind, and kept her busy - not to mention she was determined to be stronger, for the battles ahead.

Despite all the adjustments made, the time taken to re-situate herself to a new life, Wendy could not prepare for everything. Mistakes were made, stumbles in the road, and for the most part, the woman simply rolled with the punches and picked herself back up again.

But some punches were harder than others.

* * *

><p>Wendy was in her room, wide awake in the early morning, ruminating over an idea. It was Friday; the kids would be out for the weekend soon, and eagerly excited for it. All the bots were on base, for once, and none of them were going on patrol tonight. Optimus had called for a night off.<p>

And as those thoughts came together, Wendy had a burning itch in her mind to do _something_. A celebration, a thank you, a party of some kind. For everything they'd done for her; for everything they were to her.

Friends; she could honestly call them friends, and that thought made her fill to the brim with burning happiness and excitement. Wendy wanted to do something! Throw a bash to show just how much they all meant to her! The word kept playing over and over in her head:

_Friends, friends, friends, I have friends,_

_Have you met my friend Optimus? _

_This is my friend Miko -_

A girlish giggle escaped her, along with a little in place hop, and if anyone had been watching they might have worried for her mental health. As it was, she was alone, and she was plotting, so it was good she was alone.

She'd need to go to town... she could tell one of the bots she needed to do some shopping. Usually Optimus would take her, but she decided not to ask him. He would be able to tell right away she was up to something. So who to ask?

"Hey, Arcee!"

Wendy came out of the base just in time to see a blue motorcycle with a black clad rider sitting stationary on the road. For a moment, the surprise of seeing a rider made her stop, stare wide eyed. But when the rider turned and spoke with Arcee's voice, Wendy gaped.

"Need something?"

"Uh -" Shaking her head to regain control of her mouth, Wendy spoke. "Bulkhead told me you were headin' to Jasper. Mind if I hitch a ride?"

In an instant the rider vanished. "Hop on."

As Wendy walked over and climbed on, she asked, "Hologram?"

"Yeah. A motorcycle driving itself would draw too much attention."

"Guess it would." The woman chuckled a bit as Arcee took off; the sudden speed made Wendy grip the handles tight, a bit of fear clenching her chest. "Gotta say -" The wind blasting her all over was so weird. "Not used to ridin' somethin' so - so _small_."

It was Arcee's turn to laugh. "Compared to Optimus, we're all pretty small." The motorcycle put on a bit more speed and Wendy let out a yelp. "All right?"

"Yeah, just - missing the boss." She admitted. "No offense, but - bikes aren't for me!" Her grip tightened.

"Good thing I'm not your guardian then."

The statement drew her out of her fear for a moment. "Excuse me - what do you mean?"

"All of the human Autobots have a guardian - I'm Jack's." Arcee explained. "In the event of a Decepticon attack, or who knows what else, I keep him safe."

"Ah. An' everybody else?"

"Bumblebee has Rafael, Bulkhead has Miko, and Optimus has you."

"Oh." Wendy hadn't thought of herself as needing protection - but honestly, what was she going to do against something like Starscream if he reared his ugly head again? "Well - guess I'm just glad mine isn't Ratchet. I don't think he likes me much."

Arcee gave a short laugh. "Don't worry about him. He doesn't like anybody much." The bot explained. "Honestly, we were all a bit surprised when Optimus said he'd protect you."

"Why's that?"

"He's - usually pretty distant. He's the boss, but he doesn't get too close to any of us. I didn't figure on him choosing to protect you because of that." The town of Jasper was growing closer, and Arcee was beginning to slow down. _Thank Heavens._ "I guess he must like you."

"I guess." This new information lined up with Wendy's thoughts on Optimus - a bot who kept a barrier between himself and others. What was hidden behind that shield?

The two entered Jasper, and Arcee came to a stop at a stoplight. "Anywhere in particular you want to go?"

Wendy thought about it a minute. "There a Wal-mart around here?"

And so she was dropped off at the nearest store, and left to her own devices. Arcee had to pull into an alley to drop her off, so she could quickly switch to her hologram and drive off.

* * *

><p>Three hours after arriving, Wendy had collected a good bit of merchandise. Food and drink for the kids, a few gifts for her new 'friends', and best of all a customized cake with the Autobot symbol on it. Exuberant and giddy with pleasure, it was only after she'd stepped out of the store with the cart that she realized she couldn't fit all of this on a motorcycle.<p>

And then she realized she didn't even have a way to contact said motorcycle. _Oh shit... _With a violent huff Wendy took a seat on the curb and put her head in her hands.

That was something she still didn't have - a cell phone. Even if she did, she didn't know any of the others numbers. What to do? What to do? Lifting her head, Wendy saw the answer to her right; a telephone box, with a phonebook attached. She could hardly believe such things still existed, but then, this was a small, isolated town. Standing, Wendy pushed her cart to the phone.

She'd have to call a human; Jack, since he was the only one whose parent knew anything. Wendy did not want to explain Raf's parents or Miko's host parents how she knew their kid.

What was Jack's last name again? Farby... no, Darby! So she searched for it in the book, and found a few such names, including "June Darby". With a growing sense of relief, she dialed the number and put the phone to her ear.

RING, RING. "Hello -"

"Hey, Mrs. Darby -"

"- You've reached June and Jack Darby -" Wendy's joy turned sour and she slammed the phone onto the receiver. "Great." She huffed.

Still, there was some hope. The family had listed their address.

* * *

><p>One taxi drive later and Wendy was sitting on the Darby's front steps, her groceries piled around her. With a sigh, Wendy leaned back and took a puff of her cigarette. The only plus in the situation; no big bots to steal her smokes.<p>

The rather large downsides were the heat, the uncomfortable stoop, and the creepy guy across the street, watering his flowers and staring at her. Wendy attempted to ignore him.

The (ex) truck driver was beginning to doubt her decision. June Darby was a nurse - who knew when she'd get home - and Jack would probably go straight to the Autobot base. She might not be found for hours.

So deep in thought, Wendy did not notice the oddball across the street coming closer. "Excuse me? Excuse me, ma'am?"

On his third call she snapped out of it. Wendy looked up to see him standing at the end of his driveway. "Yes, sir?"

"Exactly what are you doing there?" Wendy did not like his tone of voice, but she still strived to be polite.

"I'm waiting for my friends to get home." She called back. "June and Jack Darby." The man lifted an eyebrow, gave her a look, but said no more. As he turned and walked away, Wendy scowled at him.

Once he was gone, she sighed again, letting her head fall back against the door. Well, this is fun. Cursing herself for not thinking ahead, Wendy took another drag.

Perhaps ten or fifteen minutes later, the sound of a car pulling up made Wendy lift her head. For a moment, she was hopeful. Then, her hopes were dashed to pieces, and her heart began thudding against her chest.

A police car.

Wendy tried to keep a cool head as the officer parked and stepped out of the vehicle. _He could be here for anything. He could live in this neighborhood - _But he was coming her way, approaching with heavy, narrow eyes, and the woman could already feel the judgement, the accusation in them. She tried in vain to keep a cheerful heart, tried to believe this could end well.

"G'afternoon, officer," Damn, scratch one. Wendy could tell by the way he'd sneered a bit when she spoke that her accent was working against her. For a moment she'd forgotten she was in the Midwest, not the South.

"Is this your residence, ma'am?" The cop began, his voice already thick with disbelief.

"No sir - I'm friends with the owners."

"And they would be?"

"June. June Darby 'n - and her son." Did June have a husband. Wendy wished she knew more about her friends.

"Uh huh." The man grunted. "And all of this?"

"Groceries. I went shopping but I left my house key inside."

"Have you called Mrs. Darby?"

The officer had noticed her cigarette; his eyes narrowed. Strike two.

"No, sir, don't have a cell phone."

"You don't?" After a suspicious look, he removed his from his belt. "What's her number?"

This wasn't good. "Sorry, sir, but I don't know. No cell phone, no way to keep track of numbers, right?" She tried a smile, but it came out weakly. His eyes narrowed.

"You got any I.D.?"

No - no she didn't because she'd never gotten a license in her life. Sweat was forming on her hands as she tried to keep her voice steady. "I don't."

His scowl could rival Ratchet's. "How about a name?"

That was the sinker - there was no way this was ending well. "Gwendolyn Martin." She weakly replied.

Still scowling, the cop turned back and walked to his car.

This was it, her chance to run. There was no way this bastard was going to let her off, and she did not want to go to jail. If she left her things and bolted for the backyard, he'd never catch up in time -

But no, that was the old life, the old Wendy. She was a free woman now, no record, no crimes. If she ran now, she'd be giving up on everything. No, she had to trust it would be fine, trust that Fowler had taken care of it. She wasn't a criminal anymore; she would be fine.

"Gwendolyn Martin." With renewed hope, Wendy lifted her head - and found herself faced with a gun. "You are under arrest."

* * *

><p>A lilting voice drifted quietly through the bars of the cell. Only a few others shared the city jail space with the singer; one homeless person, one passed out drunk. Wendy was in the corner of the room, a wall at her back, a wall at her right, her eyes unfocused but drifting over the other occupants. It was her low voice gracing the cell.<p>

The words were impossible to decipher from how quietly she was singing them. Legs shoved haphazardly at angles towards the door, back slumped in a defeated fashion. The glazed appearance of her eyes spoke of sorrow, of so many tears shed there were none left.

One hand lazily ran over the concrete wall, back and forth, and her thin mouth barely moved with the words. Down the hall came the clicking of a set of keys banging rhythmically against a belt.

When the cop came to the cell and unlocked it, Wendy hardly noticed. Even when the man held the door open and turned to her, her eyes remained distant and clouded. Only when he called her name did she turn her head, slowly pull herself to her feet, and trudge to the door.

The sight of Agent Fowler standing by the precinct door explained everything. Wendy went straight for him, rubbing her wrists as he turned to her gaze. The look in his eyes... it took her by surprise. Heavy guilt and grumpiness - well, the grumpiness was normal. Not the guilt. Wendy threw him a quick smile, then followed him out of the police station.

They came to the bottom of the stairs, and Wendy could not help giving a grin and a light chuckle. "Well, that sucked."

Fowler sighed. "Sorry about this, kiddo -"

"Don't be." She turned to face him, put a hand on his shoulder. "I wasn't thinking, so it ain't your fault, its mine." Then she smiled to reassure him, but it didn't look like he was buying it. There was quiet for a minute. Finally it was filled. "I just want to go home." Even if he'd been inclined to, the hopeless tone of her voice made it so there was no denying her.

* * *

><p>The first thing Wendy wanted to do when she arrived at the Autobot Base was find her room and hide in it - possibly for forever. She was discovered before she could do so, however, by three meddling kids. Her rising ire at them dimmed almost immediately when she saw what was in their hands.<p>

"This stuff - it's yours, isn't it?" Jack asked, holding out some of the bags. The teen gave a light laugh. "It was, uh - kinda funny, actually. Coming home to all that at my front door."

"What's with this stuff?" Miko had stuck her nose into them curiously, of course, and Wendy felt her cheeks heat up. She rushed over to snatch them up.

"Just - just stuff I needed. It's nothin'." But the look on the teen's face revealed she'd seen more than "nothing".

"Was that an Autobot cake! Deee-lish!" The girl tried to look into the bag again, but Wendy held them close, and backed away.

"I'll, uh - I'll see you - um -" Without a coherent goodbye, Wendy turned tail and fled, trying not to run but still hurrying down the hall to her room, leaving three flabbergasted teens behind.

The bags were spread out on her bed, their contents poured out.

After hours of melting under the noonday sun, the food was ruined. The pizza was defrosted into a gooey mess, the box bent at an awkward angle which implied the food within was torn up. Wendy wasn't really sure how Miko could have recognized the cake for what it was - the frosting had turned into a nasty muck of red and white, oozing together. With her hands grasping either side of the cake's box, Wendy stared at the disaster and fought the urge to cry.

She didn't cry; after many minutes of fighting it, her eyes stayed dry. The woman gave a heavy sigh. "Some things never change," Came her listless voice, setting the ruined cake onto the bed, letting it go like a child might a favorite toy, broken and turned to trash.

Suddenly she heard a knock at the door. Wendy didn't bother to answer, lidded eyes falling towards the floor, shoulders slumped low. Another knock came - but she ignored it. If she didn't let them in, they couldn't get in without the password, which only she and Opt -

WHRRR.

The door slid open and Wendy tensed, immediately drenched in nerves and embarrassment; she made to cover the cake and the gifts she'd bought, trying to look as if she'd been simply staring into space.

"Wendy." But at that one word, spoken in his always thrumming, almost reverent voice, all of her resolve fell to her feet. A heavy huff escaped her.

"Need me for somethin'?" She whispered weakly, not bothering to turn to him.

"Actually, I had thought you might need me." His words took her by surprise - Wendy began to turn her head, but stopped almost right way. She wouldn't be able to handle looking at him head on - the pity and sorrow that was sure to be in his eyes would kill her. "That is, you might need someone to talk to."

His usually serious voice bordered on somber then, but Wendy gave no clue that she was suffering. Stiffly she turned her head away. "Why would you think that?"

"Gwendolyn."

Bristling, the woman finally spun around, ready to tell him off, but as soon as her eyes met his optics, the words left her. What bit of anger she'd had shriveled and died. Optimus lowered his head slightly. "I am very sorry for what happened today. I cannot help but feel responsible."

"No, boss," Wendy shook her head. "I'm a big girl. I made a mistake - one of many, many I've made in my life;" Huffing she lowered her head, crossed her arms, her whole body tensing in irritation. "One of the only constant things about my life; all the mistakes." Fingers digging into her arms, Wendy narrowed her eyes. "Don't blame yourself."

The bot gave a sigh himself, which sounded oddly metallic and echo-y. "Yes, but you are under my protection, and I did not properly equip you to contact us. For that, I apologize."

A growl came from the woman as she finally raised her head. "What does that change? So I get a phone. Great. Fan - frickin' - tastic. But that doesn't change me, doesn't change who I am, and what I've done. So what if I'd avoided meeting that cop today? There'd be another one in the future." Gritting her teeth she flung her arms out. "The police are like mosquitoes, deal with one, n' suddenly you've got ten others flittin' around yer head."

Momentarily she paused in her speaking, paused long enough that Optimus opened his mouth to speak, his caring eyes narrowed in sympathy and pain. But she was hardly done. "It's never gonna end. Don't matter if I do meet giant alien robots from another race, what the fuck's that got to do with anything else? Helping you out, big guy, wasn't like some big karma kick that would erase all the bad stuff I've done. Don't know about your planet, but it don't work that way here. No, I'm still a criminal in all the ways that matter. That'll - " Only here, near the end, did her blistering strength and bitter tone break for a moment into the mournful cry it really was. "That'll never change."

Now Wendy fell silent for real, collapsing into a chair facing Optimus, falling forward to put her head in her hands. No tears escaped her, she kept them away, but her throat tightened and shook with the pain, the need to let out rasping sobs. She fought that too.

Optimus waited to see if she would speak again, waited to see if she would lift her head. When moments passed and she didn't, he leaned down, moving closer to her.

"Gwendolyn - you are not a criminal." That tone of voice brook no rebuff. "The actions you took as a child influenced by your male parental unit were not the actions of a criminal."

"An' the ones after?" Wendy sniffled, but that was the only sign she was grieving. "I've done things that would curl your hair - metaphorically speaking." Another sniff.

"And I have done things that would wrench your spark - " Wendy lifted her head slightly to see him smiling a bit. " - Metaphorically speaking." She tried giving a smile back, but it faltered a little bit. "Wendy, it is true that you will likely deal with the repercussions of your past actions for many years to come, but that says nothing about your character or who you are. All of us must live with the mistakes of our pasts."

Her head lifted up all the way, arms falling to rest on her knees. "What, that's it? Despite years of criminal activity, I'm not a criminal because of some fortune cookie words of wisdom?"

Now his voice was gaining a harder edge like hers - as if they were trying to tough each other out. "You are not a criminal because you do not fit the definition."

"Criminal - one who commits crimes. One who commits crimes for a living. Pretty sure I fit that for at least twenty years or so. Ten more and I get a commemorative watch." She spat back.

"And what of the other definition of criminal?" He ignored her sarcasm.

"Other?"

At his nod, he said, "Criminal: senseless, or deplorable. You are neither of those. Or there is criminal: guilty of a crime. I do not believe you are 'guilty' either, for while you have broken the law, you have done so under duress, or because you had no other choice. You even did so while protecting me - for which I am very grateful."

His response was cheesy, and well, fortune cookie like, but it warmed her heart in a way she hadn't thought anything could at that moment. The pain still burned and seared at her pride, embarrassed her beyond belief, but she felt a bit better. Silence overtook the room but it was comfortable, not at all awkward. Wendy heaved a sigh and wiped at her face.

"Thanks, Optimus; I needed that," She admitted. "Been a kind of disappointing day."

While he nodded, his optics flitted from her face to the things on her bed, examining. "What were you shopping for?"

Now her face turned red. "Oh... well, I... I had wanted to - celebrate, sort of... since everybody was gonna be here, a - an' the kids, n' -" Her face grew redder with each word. "It - it's pretty much ruined, though."

Optimus put a servo on his knee, eyes roaming the bed, before he turned back to her. "I think, perhaps, it can be salvaged," he said gently, giving her a slight smile. Wendy did her best to smile back.

* * *

><p>"Hello, everyone!"<p>

The kids perked up at the sound of Mrs. Darby's voice. "Hiya, Nurse mom," Miko greeted as the humans stepped towards June's car. She opened the back seat to reveal a few bags of groceries, which the kids and Wendy set to getting. When Wendy approached, June stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm terribly sorry about what happened, I can't help but feel partly to blame," The woman had her motherly gaze focused on Wendy, and for a minute Wendy was a kid again, standing with a woman in washed out jeans and a tank top.

"Not at all, Mrs. Darby. I'm the fool who forgot she had no phone." Grinning, she brushed the woman off, and though June still looked troubled, she accepted it.

A series of happy beeps came from behind them, and the two turned to see Bumblebee kneeling nearby, looking into the back seat of the car. The women turned to look at all the piled up bags, which the kids were almost done getting, back to Bee.

"Does he want to help?" June wondered. Raf, standing behind them with two plastic bags, nodded, and looked to his friend.

"It's okay; I think we've got it covered." Bee warbled and stood back up, backing away.

There was some food for the kids, a few cheesy decorations, and a small box Wendy wasn't allowed to see. Bumblebee took eagerly to putting up the banner and the few decorations they had, while Ratchet grumbled all the while. The humans brought the food up to their walkway, while Wendy brought out the gifts she'd bought.

"It's not much, but, uh – I just wanted to thank y'all. All of y'all. If it weren't – well, - I just wanted to say thanks." And she left it at that, cheeks red, eyes averted to the ground. Without looking up she extended her hand to Miko, offering a plastic bag.

With growing fervor and enthusiasm, Miko grabbed the bag and dove inside. "Oooh!" the girl grinned when and gave a cheer when she removed a nice new sketchbook. "And I was down to five pages in the other one!" She leapt onto Wendy almost immediately, taking the woman by surprise. After a wide eyed moment, she slowly put her arms around the teen.

"I meant to wrap all this, but I – well, -" Wendy muttered as Miko backed up, still pawing happily at her sketchbook.

"We understand." Arcee murmured from nearby.

Hearing the femme, Wendy turned her head, then reached her hand into one of the bags beside her. "Uh, here, I got you somethin'-" The bot seemed stunned, staring wide eyed, err, optic-ed, as Wendy pulled out a piece of paper. "It's not much, but I thought you'd like it."

It was too small for her to pick up, so Arcee leaned over to read it. "If you don't like how I drive, - get off the sidewalk?" A bark of laughter escaped her.

Wendy smiled, obviously pleased she thought it was amusing. "I don't know what you'd do with it, but I liked the sentiment."

Arcee gently took it from her hands. "Thank you."

Digging around, Wendy pulled out the next thing she touched, and upon looking at it, called out. "Hey, Ratch!"

"How many times must I tell you not to call me that!" The medic steamed, stomping his foot at her. Wendy merely laughed, holding a hand out.

"Love you too, big guy," And then moved her hand towards him again when he didn't move. When he finally came over and carefully took the object in her hands, one of his big metal eyebrows flew upwards.

"'House'?" He asked, looking to the woman.

"I swear to all that's holy, the human doctor in that show is you in fleshy form." That prompted a round of laughs from the humans, who knew the show well, while the Transformers suddenly looked concerned. "At least, in some ways. They have an alarming amount of similarities."

"That idea is… disconcerting." Optimus chimed up.

"More like terrifying." Bulkhead added.

Ratchet continued examining the DVD case like it was a foreign mystery while Wendy continued the rounds. Before long she'd given everyone on base a gift – everyone but Optimus.

When she looked towards him, there was an all too smug smirk on her face that made him curious. "This is a gift for you, in a way – though I'm the one who would be using it." The strangeness of that statement made Optimus curious. Everyone watched as Wendy removed the last gift from the bag.

It was a white box of some kind of medicine. "What is it?" Arcee asked, even as one of the humans burst into laughter.

"That's perfect!" Raf chortled, laughing harder when he saw the confusion on the Autobot's faces.

"It's a treatment to help smokers quit." Wendy grinned when the realization hit Optimus's optics – and then, he too, laughed.

* * *

><p>The sun was setting over Nevada.<p>

"Will you really use that treatment?"

Wendy shrugged at Optimus' question, and then laughed at the irritation which came over his face. Then she changed her answer. "Yeah, I will, and to be honest I've been trying to quit." The woman admitted with a sigh. That put a perplexed look on Optimus's face.

"Then why do you continue to try to smoke around base?" She had, in fact, made many strong attempts, all foiled by Optimus, or Ratchet, but mostly Optimus.

A small smirk came over her lips. "It's fun messin' with ya."

His thoughts on that response were clear when his face twisted into a slightly annoyed, slightly amused grimace and she had to laugh. Over her laughter came the bot's remark. "I do not think risking your health for amusement is very smart."

"Haven't you heard, big guy? Laughter's healthy for you," The woman replied smugly. Then she gave a yelp when a finger gently nudge her back in playful admonition. Even though he was a bit miffed, she could tell Optimus was genuinely amused. It wasn't a well known fact, but Optimus was something of a comedian. He just kept it very well hidden.

As silence fell over them Wendy found herself losing that bit of happiness, falling a bit into melancholy. She didn't fall too deep - she'd had enough of moping and feeling sorry for herself - but damn it all if it hadn't been a bad day and she didn't really feel chipper. Still, it had wrapped up nicely.

"I cannot apologize enough for what happened today."

Wendy rolled her eyes. "And I can't seem to say enough, wasn't your fault. Let's just forget it and move on, okay? I know I'd love to." Huffing, Wendy stood and stretched her arms out behind her. Then she stretched leg by leg, straightening them out, before lowering her arms with a sigh and closing her eyes. Optimus noticed all this with curious eyes.

"Are you feeling all right?"

She nodded. "Fine, just stretching. Sometimes humans get sore from sittin' in one place for too long - especially a place as uncomfortable as this." Glaring at the ground, Wendy put her arms in front of her and crossed her fingers, stretching again.

"You are not comfortable?" Optimus said it as if it were a dire problem and he felt terrible for not having noticed it. _Of course he'd overreact_, Wendy huffed, but inside she couldn't help but beam. The big guy was kinda cute in his own way.

"It's all right."

But the bot did not look pleased. After a moment of hesitation, he held out his large hand towards her, as if offering her something, but there was nothing there. Wendy stared at it for a minute without comprehending. Then it sunk in. "You want -"

"I do not know if it will be more comfortable for you than the rocks," He began, "but you are welcome to."

Flabbergasted, Wendy glanced from the rocky ground to Optimus's hand. "Uh..." For some reason she was sort of, well, embarrassed by this. _Oh, get over it, it's like holding hands. Kinda._ Except the idea of holding hands with Optimus also made her embarrassed. Fuming over her inner turmoil, Wendy finally shook it off and stepped closer, grabbing his finger. It was comfortably warm.

"Thanks, Optimus," She murmured as she climbed up, his other hand coming behind her, just in case. Up she went, feeling a little bit wobbly, but he kept his fingers curled up like a protective wall, and slowly pulled her towards his chest. Wendy grabbed his thumb and held on for dear life.

"You are safe, Wendy; I won't let any harm come to you." The mech promised, his thumb moving just slightly. It felt weird, feeling his thumb move beneath her fingers. She could hear the whirring of machinery just beneath the outer shell, each whirr and click as his joints moved, and it was sort of disturbing. Like listening to a human heart beat, which to Wendy had always been off putting because it felt like listening to a clock ticking down the time.

When Wendy didn't reply to him, Optimus called her name. "Wendy? Do you want to be put back down?"

She shook her head no, but did not release her iron clad grip. "It's fine, just not too fond of heights. Not too fond of any amount of daring, really. When I rode on Arcee this morning, I was petrified." The woman gave a small chuckle. "I told her I was used to something bigger."

Optimus laughed too. "I suppose you would be."

But Wendy did not hear this statement - her mind had slid to a halt at her own words, realizing the various other ways they could be taken, and praising whoever was up Above that Optimus was not human and would have no idea. Fighting the color rising to her face, Wendy shoved those thoughts away and absolutely refused to think about them.

_Waaay too weird, there, Wendy._

"So, big guy," The Southerner began with a drawn out drawl, as if attempting to delay her words, to give her time to think of more. "You know all about me. What about you?"

The Autobot turned to scrutinize her in a way that seemed wary. "You… wish to know of my life?"

The human cracked a grin. "Only fair right?"

But he seemed to take her joking manner seriously. "I suppose… you are right." A dreadful grimace twisted his face, something she'd never seen on him. He looked… apprehensive.

"Now wait just a minute." Wendy turned her body to face him. "I didn't really mean it like that – I don't want you to tell me yer life story cause you feel obliged. If you don't wanna, don't."

Relief colored his optics instantly. "You are sure?"

She nodded. "But I am ready to listen, whenever you're ready to speak."

The relief melted into appreciation. "Thank you, Wendy."

The human did not see the splendidly peaceful look on his usually distant and hard façade; her eyes were trailing the sun as it vanished beyond the horizon, dying out and coloring the world red with its blood.


	4. Invigorated

**Warning**: here the story gets a bit AU, which it was obviously going to do eventually. June Darby has been a part of the story for a while, but in this, I document Wendy being part of episodes before the Autobots met June. To clarify, June was introduced to them early in this story because of the need for a human nurse to bring Wendy back from the brink of death. In that respect, the canon is a little off.

…

Living with the Autobots was something of an adventure. One always had to be alert, always on their toes, when surrounded by giant warring robots from outer space. If Wendy had thought she'd be bored with no job and nothing to do at the base, well, she'd been very wrong.

As time passed and she became a true part of the Autobot team, she did, in fact, participate in many of their wayward missions…

One of the first was a mission in Greece. Long story short, the Autobots were at a museum, trying to obtain an important and potentially dangerous artifact before the Decepticons. The three teens were inside while Optimus and Wendy awaited them in the parking lot. Whilst she wasn't needed within, Wendy didn't feel right letting the kids go on their own, and so tagged along with the big bot.

She paced the sidewalk in front of the Museum while Optimus remained in truck form, both very quiet and somewhat anxious. Every so often Wendy would glance up at the doors as if hoping to see the kids coming out of them. Time passed and she grew tenser by the minute.

Light caught the edge of her sight and Wendy turned – two beams of brightness blaring in her face as an Aston Martin drove up to the curve.

Then the beautiful red car gave Wendy a start – by wolf whistling. "Sweet rims, 24 gauge… your _reeeeal_ heavy duty. Just like my friend here…"

For a moment Wendy was stunned into silence by what she'd heard_. Did… did he just…_ But then suddenly a burst of fire flew into the air, and Optimus transformed just in time to keep the missile from hitting the building.

There was no time to think of what did or did not just happen; battle commenced, and Wendy watched with growing anger and alarm as the Aston Martin transformed and took Optimus by surprise, using some kind of electric rod to knock him unconscious. Panic and fear hit her as he slammed into the ground, but Wendy held herself together. She knew it would take more than that to keep Optimus down.

_Oooh, you're gonna get yours, buddy… _Wendy flew back to the Museum, hiding in its shadow, while keeping her eyes on the red one. Slowly she removed her new Bowie Knife from its sheath on her hip; made by Ratchet, who had created it out of some special metal that was perfect for cutting Cybertronian armor. Now to figure out how to attack… the red Decepticon didn't have vulnerable ankles the way the silver one – Star… something? – did, so she'd have to do something else. Watching and listening anxiously, Wendy finally came across something that would work.

"Hey! Watch the paint!" He screamed angrily, and at that Wendy gave a smirk.

"Vain about your looks, huh?" It wouldn't really hurt him, but it was sure to distract him. Wendy raced out towards him, just as Bumblebee and Arcee were both thrown back into the ground. The 'cons were momentarily distracted, sure of their victory, with no idea something much smaller was headed for them.

Wendy slid to a halt by the bot's leg and she stabbed him, then dragged the knife down to really pull the red finish apart. A terrible screech filled the air – whether it was the pained cry of twisting metal, or the Decepticons angry shriek, Wendy didn't really know. She pulled the knife out and ran for it once she was noticed, and while the red guy was enraged and chasing her, Bumblebee tackled him from behind.

And with a grin, Wendy saw Optimus was back up; she waved at him, ignoring the mildly disapproving glare he sent her way. As she ran to him, he stepped forward, putting himself between her and the fight. While the Autobots sent the con's running for the hills, Wendy went back to wondering about the strange red mech, who went from complimenting one moment to annihilating the next. Wendy didn't know much about romance, but she figured trying to kill the one to whom you were attracted wasn't helpful.

"You're an odd one, all right," And she couldn't help thinking, with a surprisingly happy feeling, that the tragic star-crossed love of the red con was doomed.

* * *

><p>Then came the 'racing incident'.<p>

Wendy hadn't seen Optimus angry before. It was both oddly out of place and strangely terrifying. Odd, because he was always so reserved and calm. Frightening, because he had a presence and a tone of voice that could make you tremble.

_At least I'm not the only object of his ire_, She thought, looking around the room at all the bots and humans who'd had a hand in Jack's short lived racing career.

She had, admittedly, covered for the kid – but she had a hard time lying to Optimus. Not that Raf and Miko had fared better. Between the three of them, floundering for excuses, Optimus had caught on.

Later, after the long and heart wrenching lecture from the boss, along with some bursts of anger from Ratchet, Wendy and Optimus met at the usual place. The air was tenser than usual; Wendy felt guilt and shame rise in her throat. "Optimus, I –"

"I would have thought that you, out of all of us, would have known better."

The bitter edge in his tone surprised her, and cut to the quick. Before she could say a word, the angry tone returned full force. "After all you have said about breaking the law, you assisted another in doing so."

Wendy hadn't really thought of it that way, and tried to tell him so, but the aggravated bot would have none of it. What would you have done if Jack had been arrested? Or worse, injured?"

Sudden, vicious anger flooded her. "Why are you pinning this all on me? I wasn't alone in this, and it was hardly my idea! What – you really think I could have stopped them?"

"Yes!" The impassioned cry surprised her. "They respect you, the human children especially. If you had ben against it, I do not think it would have happened!"

The sincerity in his tone of voice had her at a loss for words, the well of her anger drying up. "But – I'm just a tagalong. I'm not really a part of your team…"

His optics flickered to her arm, softening, his own anger seeming to lighten finally. He gave a sigh and murmured, "Are you not?"

In that moment, listening to his calm tone, Wendy felt herself trembling from its resonance; and she found herself wondering, why, why did his voice make her tremble, even when he wasn't angry?

* * *

><p>Even worse than the Prime's anger was his pain. When the Autobot leader fell sick with a deadly virus, everyone was shocked.<p>

Worry was tearing them all apart, but perhaps no one as much as Wendy. They all watched Optimus' condition warily, and waited for Bumblebee to return anxiously, yet none of them seemed so on edge as the Prime's young friend.

The human woman hovered in the med bay for hours before Ratchet declared she was only harming herself and forbid her from coming in. Then she began pacing near the space bridge, clenching and unclenching her fists, eyes burning holes into the ground. Honestly, she was scaring some of the others, even to the point that, after biting Bulkhead's head off again, Arcee picked her up and deposited her outside to cool down.

When the cure was found and Optimus returned to good health, Wendy was nowhere to be seen. No one knew where she'd gone. Once Ratchet cleared him, Optimus left the med bay for the cliff which had such a wondrous view of the sunset.

There she was, curled up into a ball with her head on her knees, arms clutching her legs, her face pulled taut into a frustrated grimace. Gently he sat beside her, and after a moment's hesitation, she moved towards him to rest against his leg. Neither of them spoke a word.

* * *

><p>Not all her time spent with the Autobots was fighting and struggling against the enemy. There was down time, and sometimes, there was even some "struggling" amidst the team.<p>

Ordinarily, Wendy liked June Darby. They were somewhat close in age and got along well. But for some reason on this day, every part of Wendy bristled at June's presence. The ex-trucker couldn't really say why. At first they'd been fine. June had come to the base to see her son, then she'd asked about Optimus not being present. When Ratchet replied that he was on a mission, well –

"And I wore heels and everything…'

Wendy did not hear Jack's distressed cry which followed after. In fact, all she could hear was that sentence, on repeat in her mind. A burning fire of rage flew up her throat; irritation bit at her like a thousand red ants. Her whole demeanor changed in fury in that one moment, and she had no idea why.

Someone called her name but she didn't hear as she began to storm from the room. There was a pack of cigarettes in her pants pocket; in need of a way to blow off steam, she pulled it out. When a giant metal hand started to descend from the sky towards her, all the bottled up emotions burst.

"If anybody tries to take my fuckin' cigs, so help me, I will light you up like a firecracker!" She bellowed, stunning every bot and human in the room, before spinning around and storming out.

* * *

><p>There were times she went on missions which Optimus was not a part of. While they might have sometimes seemed glued at the hip, they weren't always side by side. On one particular occasion, Wendy accompanied Arcee, Bulkhead, Miko, and Jack to an energon mine for a routine scouting mission.<p>

At first everything was hunky dory, just fun and games. Miko raced eagerly into the (possibly unstable) mine, and after some cajoling from Jack, Arcee gave permission to follow. Wendy remained with the latter two, not all that eager to see the insides of a cave.

"Claustrophobic?" Jack asked when Wendy explained her nervousness.

"No, I just – this is gonna sound silly, but it's like we're inside the Earth's guts. Walking around in its intestines or something, under its skin." Wendy gave a shiver while both Arcee and Jack stared incredulously.

"You're right, that's sounds 'silly'. Earth isn't alive, Wendy." Arcee gave a smirk and turned to keep walking, followed closely by Jack. After a moment's more of hesitation, Wendy followed.

It was fine for a while, even interesting as they explored "the Earth's guts". That was, until, they stumbled across two more… explorers.

Jack and Wendy were walking ahead, about to turn a corner when they saw them. Jack gave a start and jumped back, though not out of the line of sight; on the other hand, Wendy froze, eyes wide as they focused on the shape of a figure she'd never forget. The one who'd tortured her during her stay with the Decepticons… but now it looked like the tables had turned. This time, her captor was on his knees, a horrid look of fright on his face, with an enormous figure looming over him.

When Arcee turned the corner and saw them, that's when the two 'cons noticed the new arrivals… and that's when it all went to hell.

Wendy coughed and spat out clouds of dust as she struggled to stand. How she hadn't been crushed to death, she didn't know, but her first thoughts were with her friends. "Jack! Arcee!" The room was covered in a dust cloud she couldn't see through, but it was slowly dissipating.

"Wendy! Over here!"

With a burst of relief Wendy hurried towards the sound of Jack's voice. "Is Arcee with you?"

"No, she fell." The fear and tension in his voice – and when she saw him, his face – were clear. "We've gotta find her and the others – before anyone else does."

The heavy weight of what could find the others, or heaven forbid, what could find _them_, hit Wendy like a ton of bricks. "Let's move."

They did not find the others right away; the first thing they found was mining equipment. Still, that was a plus. Jack ran up to climb onto it, while Wendy stared at the drill in awe.

"Can you imagine what their world must have been like… a whole planet of their technology…" Amazed, Wendy gave a light grin and climbed up. Jack had already begun pressing buttons on the machine. "Y'know what you're doin'?"

"Yeah… I think." He added hastily, but just then, the drill started up. Jack gave the woman an optimistic grin, before beginning to move it. Wendy grabbed on when the lurch almost threw her off, hoping that Jack really did know what he was doing.

They drove a while, until they arrived where Jack must have guess Arcee fell. Then they began to drill. After doing enough to hopefully make it to her – without hurting her – Jack backed the machine up and both humans looked over the edge. "Arcee?"

"I suppose helping those less fortunate would be completely out of the question."

Shock and a bit of fear hit both the humans; Jack backed away, and Wendy began reaching for her knife until she realized just how hopelessly trapped the Transformer was.

"If that is the case, you may as well use your drill to finish me. I guarantee you'll never have a better opportunity than right… now."

The human boy was still somewhat stunned – but the older woman's eyes were dancing everywhere, a sign of a quickly thinking mind. She glanced to the trapped figure, to the rocks surrounding him, to Jack and the drill. A hard look came over her face, one of determination and realization, and just as Jack was about to speak, she ran to the controls.

The boy's head spun around. "Wendy! What are you doing?"

"Once upon a time I would've told you to get rid of an enemy while you had the chance," She began to explain. Then she looked up, eyes narrowed. "I'm turnin' a new leaf."

"Are you crazy! He'll kill us!" The boy threw his arms up. Wendy moved around him to lean over the side again.

"Uh, Mister – what's your name?"

The Decepticon seemed to be torn between outright befuddlement and amusement. "I am Megatron."

"Right, - if I dig you outta here, will you swear a truce for the time being, lasting until we're all safe and sound in our own bases again?"

He did not answer immediately, and for a moment, Wendy was sure he'd decline. Then he looked her in the eyes with his red optics and she felt a kind of dread she'd never known. "I will."

Immediately the woman spun back around and returned to the control panel, Jack staring dumbly at her all the while. "You're psycho. I can't believe we're doing this."

"Neither can I, but like I said – new leaf and everythin'. Sides…" Grimacing, she began to maneuver the machine. "I can't think of a worse way to die than the starvation and isolation of this." She threw Jack a grin. "If we leave him now, we'll never see Optimus rip his head off."

Finally Jack seemed to give in, though the misgivings he had were still plan to see in his posture. He stood back, still frowning. "How are you sure we can trust him?"

The woman shrugged. "Not sure, but I have a hunch. He's not like his underlings – he's a warrior. He's got a sense of pride and honor, and if he gives his word, I think he'll stick to it."

Little did the humans know, the very powerful alien robot could hear every word, despite the roar of the drill.

So they dug, drilling and drilling, and every so often Jack would think of a new complaint and Wendy would deflect it.

"We could be helping the Autobots with this thing!"

"They're next – but I'd rather have a snake in our midst, then a cougar at our backs." If that made sense to Jack, he didn't show it. Wendy grinned. "I'd rather I know where this guy is."

"Right…"

After some effort, there was enough rock drilled away for Megatron to crawl his way to freedom. As he began to move, filling the cavern with the eerie screech of metal on rock, Wendy turned to Jack.

"I want you to take the drill and go, now."

"Wendy –"

"If you're right, I don't want your death on my head." Wendy jumped off the machine and backed away. Megatron was a little less than halfway free, struggling with how low the top of the exit was. "Get goin'."

"But –"

"Go!"

With one last dark look, Jack began driving away. Wendy turned to the Decepticon leader, feeling real fear rumbling in her gut; she kept her hand close to the handle of her Bowie knife.

When he was free, Megatron was taller than almost any bot Wendy had ever met and nervousness began to tear at her strength. But she kept a firm look, a tough outer appearance, even as those terrible eyes settled on her.

"You I have not seen before… so the Autobots picked up a new pet. Who do you belong to then?" The mech grinned and revealed two rows of awfully sharp teeth. "The medic's? Or perhaps Bulkhead acquired another female to keep the first company…"

Though she was pretty sure she'd regret revealing it, pride made her want to say it. "Prime's my bot."

Surprise widened his optics. "You are very brave, and very _foolish_, to admit that to me."

"Y'know, that's not the first time one of your people has told me that." Wendy gave a smirk. "That silver one from earlier – he said the same thing."

"Starscream?" He growled the name angrily and Wendy wondered if it had been dumber to bring him up or Optimus up. "Then you are the one…"

Wendy's eyes flitted to her left arm, which thankfully was covered by her flannel sleeves. Though a part of her wondered if those blood red eyes could see right through it, right through her… Afraid to speak, Wendy stared up at the hulking monstrosity above, who was now leering down at her. With tingling sparks of nervousness racing up and down her spine, she awaited his next words – but to her shock and surprise, he knelt down and grabbed her. She gave a shout as his hand took hold of her none too gently (though not painfully). He stood back up a bit fast and her head reeled.

A long metal digit scratched her arm, cutting both cloth and skin, and Wendy gave a pained hiss. Now the red mark was there for all to see.

"So it's true… a human took the mark of an Autobot…" He gave a dark laugh that made Wendy scowl. "It's truly amusing. You don't even know what it is your 'side' stands for, do you?"

Simmering rage replaced fear as she glared up at the Decepticon. "No, I'll admit I don't' know the politics behind what this is, or what you've got on your chest." Her eyes flitted to the purple symbol so unlike her own. "That doesn't matter to me." Back her gaze went to his feral optics. "Optimus Prime is the first bein' in this whole damn universe who's ever acted like I mattered – the first to ever listen to me and care what I'm sayin'. Honest to god, Optimus could go to the dark side and tear my home planet apart, and I'd still follow him anywhere."

Megatron's optics widened, then narrowed, glancing off to the side. Wendy wished she could tell what he was thinking, whether he was about to squeeze her to death or not. Finally he broke the silence with a barking laugh. "So… you are eternally loyal to him, are you? And I suppose you believe he will always be loyal to you as well? That he'll always listen to you? That you'll always matter to him?" Taunting in his tone, Megatron sneered at her, and suddenly Wendy could see something in his optics that hadn't been present before. Confusion came over her but she shoved it aside.

"I can damn well hope so."

Leaning back, Megatron laughed again. "So how long do you _hope_ to distract me? Do you think your friends will have enough time to escape while you keep me occupied?"

Flushing scarlet, Wendy shrugged. "Figured it was worth a shot."

"Why help me at all?" Now his voice was truly lower, almost befuddled. He didn't understand. So, Wendy put it in terms he would get.

"I didn't do it for you. I was helping myself."

The beast smirked and raised his gaze. "Huh." For a moment he didn't speak. Then, he simply began to walk.

"Hey, uh - you gonna put me down anytime soon?"

"No, fool. As of now, you are my captive." That was all he said – frowning, Wendy crossed her arms over the tops of his fingers and resigned herself to being carried. "What did you think would happen? You should have taken me out while you had the chance. Now your chances for survival are less than slim."

Seeming unalarmed and somewhat content, Wendy gave a smirk. "You wouldn't get it. I spent my whole life doing whatever terrible things I had to, to survive. Now… I'm gonna do the right thing, and I don't give a damn if I survive or not."

Megatron grunted. "You really are a fool."

* * *

><p>Arcee, Bulkhead, Miko, and Jack were nowhere to be seen as Megatron sauntered through the cave, Wendy held tight in his clutches. Honestly she was glad they weren't there – so they couldn't be harmed, and so they wouldn't see what a mess she'd made of it all. Staying true to your philosophy was one thing; getting yourself into life or death situations that could have been avoided was another. Wendy certainly felt stupid.<p>

Eventually they came across someone else, but not an Autobot; Megatron and his unwilling companion came across Starscream, stuck between a literal rock and a hard place.

Wendy sneered when she saw the other bot, but she kept her mouth shut. _What an asshole_. The two were speaking to each other but the woman wasn't listening, drifting off into the world of inner thought. _This guy is so dead. The way Megatron was acting earlier, there's no way he's gonna save him…_

Starscream's pleas for mercy grew louder and Wendy frowned. _This is really pathetic… I actually feel kinda bad for the guy. But there's no way I'm advocating saving two Decepticons in one day. I already screwed myself over once._

Megatron glared down at his subordinate for a surprisingly long time; when Wendy noticed he wasn't moving, she looked up at him. He seemed distant – until he gave an unnerving smirk that said someone was going to suffer. Dear god I hope that's not directed at me. It wasn't; he was still facing Starscream. And, after that smirk, Megatron took a step forward. Then another. Starscream was trembling, both from the weight of the ceiling and from fear. Megatron came closer, ever closer, and Wendy winced. _This doesn't look good for him…_

But then Megatron surprised both Wendy and Starscream when his free arm came up and propped up the ceiling, shoving it up and out of Starscream's reach. The other bot dropped his weary arms, giving a heavy sigh of relief as his shoulders sagged. Then he looked up in reverence and surprise at his leader. "M – Master…?"

_Wait_… Frowning, Wendy glanced from one to the other. _Master? I've never heard a 'con call Megatron 'Master'… _Then the woman gave a screech when Megatron flung her at Starscream. Luckily for her the flyer managed to catch her in time.

"Don't harm it, if you know what's good for you." Wendy wisely kept her mouth shut as long, wiry fingers closed over her. She felt Starscream move quickly away, and heard Megatron moving the enormous mass… At that moment, she wondered if Starscream would try to run again. She could feel his body trembling, moving back and forth, as if torn between staying and running. He stayed.

Eventually the fingers opened up again, and a clawed hand grabbed her. "Master, what are you keeping it for?"

Wendy had a strong desire to say, "I'm a she", but her desire to live was much stronger. Megatron began to move, jostling her.

"This human is important to Prime. " She heard the smirk in his chilling voice. "Imagine his fear when he finds her with me…"

Finally Wendy found her voice. "I thought we had a truce!" She shouted.

Megatron leered down at her. "We do. But I made no such deal with Prime…"

They soon found themselves out of the cave, Megatron at the lead, Starscream just behind. But just as Starscream was about to come out of the cave, Megatron spun around on him. Wendy watched as the big bot came within inches of the other's face, and though Starscream looked terrified, he didn't dare back away.

"We will… discuss this… back at base. Go." The Decepticon leader seethed, and not a moment after he was done, Starscream began moving away quickly.

"Of – of course, master, I – I will –" But he eventually just transformed and raced off into the sky, leaving Wendy with a very sudden thought.

_There's no way those two aren't fuckin' or somethin'._

Technically, she didn't even know if Transformers could "fuck", but the tension and the reactions between the two – not to mention the huge fact that Megatron had just spared the one who was constantly trying to kill him! – made Wendy wonder if there was more there than most realized…

"Human."

Megatron's voice made her scowl. "The name is Gwendolyn." Megatron was certainly not a friend, so no way in hell was he calling her by her nickname.

"Optimus will certainly come for you soon." Megatron took a seat on an outcropping of rock with a thunderous bang. "When he does, you will see for yourself just what the 'Autobots' stand for."

That ominous promise turned Wendy's stomach into a bunch of knots.

It didn't take long for Optimus to appear out of a ground bridge, driving out in truck form only to transform and land on his feet, rushing towards Megatron with violent intent. He stopped a bit away, antsy and obviously infuriated.

"Megatron!" He bellowed, and Wendy felt a shiver trace her spine_. Again with the shivers_! She thought with a frown, before turning her nervous glance up at her captor.

The enemy leader gave a dark, shark like grin before standing, jostling Wendy as he did. "Finally decided to show… " With a leer he cocked his head at his opponent. "I was beginning to think you'd lost your way."

"Hand the woman over." Optimus said the words with the tremulous threat of future pain if Megatron didn't acquiesce. But of course he didn't.

"And why I should? So you can continue lying to her?" The grin became a violent smirk, all the more disturbing in how it disguised his nature. The sharp grin seemed to suit him more. "Tell me, Prime; how much about the war and your precious Auto-_scum_ have you really told her?"

Optics narrowing, Optimus glanced from the bot to the human and back. "That's between her and I. You have nothing to do with this."

"Don't I? I was there." He gave a light, sardonic chuckle. "Have you told her we started this war side by side – that you were under my command for vorns before you had your first taste of power and desired more!"

"Power had nothing to do with it!" The Prime shouted. Wendy watched as both became incensed, bubbling up with who knew how many years of bottled fury. "I did my duty!"

"You betrayed me!"

"No," The Autobot seethed. "You betrayed yourself."

It was fascinating in the way a collision was fascinating – impossible to turn from, but stomach churning at the same time. Wendy kept her eyes trained on both alien life forms, trying to understand the past behind the words, what had happened to create this rift. Their words made her burn curiosity – but she knew better than to say anything just then.

When the two finally fell quiet, each glaring hard enough to kill at the other, Wendy wondered if they'd simply glare forever. Then – to her great dismay – she was suddenly air born. Megatron tossed her at his former ally, who shot up with panic and raced to catch her. During Optimus' haste to save his friend, Megatron transformed and took off. Two enormous metal hands caught Wendy gently, though his quick save couldn't help her reeling mind or the food gurgling up her throat.

After she calmed herself, she turned her eyes up to the sky, where trails of clouds torn apart were the only sign of Megatron's departure. Optimus gave a heavy sigh as he gazed up, fingers curling protectively around his charge. It wasn't long before he called to Ratchet for a bridge.

When they returned to base, Optimus didn't say a word to the others – he stormed out of the main room, down the hall. His long legs carried them to the door of Wendy's room, where he gently set her down, then quickly turned to race off, still silent, stiff, turned suddenly cold by his encounter with his "old friend". For a moment, Wendy stared at the door, fists clenched, listening to the echoing boom of the bot walking away.

"Optimus," She finally called. He stopped, turning his head slightly, but did nothing else. "Just wanted to remind you of what I said, on the cliff, bout talkin' bout your past. The offer's still open… whenever you change your mind." The Prime stayed precisely still for all of half a second – then gave a rigid nod, before turning and walking away. Wendy watched him go with weary eyes and heavy limbs, the exhaustion of the day taking its toll.

* * *

><p>Then there were those precious days, those rare and beautiful times when the world was at peace.<p>

On those days, Wendy would wake to the newspaper and a cup of coffee. It was always a day behind, her paper – she would receive the issues from the kids in the afternoon, and save them for the next morning so she'd have something to read. If she was in a pleasant mood, Wendy would take her paper and her coffee out to the common area, say hello to the bots, and talk about the morning's missions and the work to come.

It was in the morning that talking to Optimus was easiest. First in the morning, he hadn't quite settled into his removed, business state, and was much easier to approach.

"Mornin' boss," The ex-trucker greeted as she took another sip from her cup. "Anythin' new in the world?"

Optimus, who was standing at the computer, spoke as he read something on the screen. "There was an earthquake in the south eastern hemisphere of your planet – threats of terrorism have arisen in the country of England, - and a video of kittens playing in boxes gained millions of hits on youtube." Then he turned to face her. "I must admit I find it hard to understand the priorities of your species."

Laughing, Wendy slouched down onto the couch, feet propped on the table before her. "That sounds just about right – pain and strife across the world, kittens take over the internet," Rolling her eyes, Wendy snapped her paper open. "I'll never understand people."

The bot continued to stare at her, blinking his optics, even glancing away like a human would when nervous. "… you don't understand your race?"

Wendy looked up and took in the befuddlement on his usually confident face. "Well… we're a pretty confusing and conflicted bunch, aren't we?" That was all she was going to say, until she reflected and glanced back up. "Don't you ever feel confused about your species?"

"I… I am not sure our race thinks in such terms. I do not know any Cybertronian who would say they do not _understand_ their race – we all know our history, our culture, our function. The way you say this… I don't believe I quite understand you."

Wendy didn't understand him, either; she wasn't sure what he was asking. "Well… what I meant was… people are strange. They've got their priorities mixed up (like you said); they do stupid things; half the time, it seems to me they do more harm and good. I don't understand how people can go about… living like that. Ignoring war and famine and the dark parts of the world in favor of celebrities and America's Funniest Home Videos, like it'll all go away if we wish really, really hard." Rolling her eyes, Wendy gave a shrug. "I guess I'm saying I can't believe humans can be so thoughtless. Get it?"

He nodded. "I see. In that case, I do understand – and I do sometimes wonder about the 'thoughtlessness' of my own race."

"You do?"

With grave optics, he turned back to the computer screen. "Humans may have their own problems, Wendy, but my race, for all its intelligence and power, waged a war which ultimately doomed us all. So yes – I wonder how we can be so thoughtless."

That dismal note darkened previous somewhat lighthearted conversation – and Wendy found it hard to say anything after that.

* * *

><p>"Mornin' boss."<p>

This morning he did turn to look at her, an eyebrow raised in confusion. "May I ask… why do you call me that?"

"Call ya what?" She took her customary position on the couch, today jostling her cup a little too much, spilling some of the brown liquid on her red and black striped flannel shirt. Apparently she'd filled it too much.

"'Boss'. It is a word used for superiors in the workplace, is it not?"

Wendy's mind was only half in the conversation as she dabbed at the stain on her shirt. "Yeah, sure. I mean, you kinda are the boss, right? You've got most of the authority around here… 'cept maybe Ratchet." Glancing up, a quirk of the mouth and a chuckle graced her face. "Now that I think about it, sometimes Ratchet seems more like the 'Boss' than you. Y'know when he gets on one of those tirades…"

"Wendy." Once he had her attention, Optimus smiled. "I understand your reasoning… but I would think, at this point, we have reached a place in our… 'friendship', where we are on equal footing."

Surprised, the woman stared at him. "Uh… I suppose… though we're not _exactly_ on equal footing, B – Optimus."

The smile became a smirk as Optimus knelt to where Wendy was on the raised platform, bringing them practically face to face. "We are in the ways that matter, Wendy."

Chuckling, Wendy shook her head. "That was corny." Optimus started to laugh, too, but suddenly the booming echo of the doors to the base opening, and the roar of engines filled the room. The kids were out of school for the weekend, and the bots had picked them up.

The change was immediate and almost alarming in its speed and intensity. Wendy watched, slack jawed, as the laughter died in Optimus' throat, his lips straightening, his gaze becoming firmer and more serious. He stood again, and then backed a bit further away, distancing himself from the group as the kids piled out and rushed up the stairway, their companions transforming.

As they all started to talk about who knew what – Wendy wasn't listening – the flabbergasted woman took in the fact that a wholly different Optimus had just replaced the one she knew so well. And while she knew he was different when he was at work, she'd never seen the change, never realized how vastly different Optimus presented himself to his team.

In that moment she found herself wondering why she, out of all of them, had the privilege of seeing the great Optimus Prime at his most relaxed and friendliest moments.

* * *

><p>Late at night, in the silence of her bedroom, Wendy sat with a glass of sweet tea on her bed, leg crossed "Indian style", back slouched against the rough, scratchy pillows, dressed only in a white wife beater and her underwear. In one hand was an unlit cigarette which she repeatedly tapped against her leg, on time with a beat. Tap… tap… tap… The ice in her glass clinked and clicked as she lifted it to take a sip. Eyes half shut with sleepiness, Wendy sat in the darkness and thought.<p>

It was nearing 2 am; she'd awoken near one and been unable to return to sleep. Now she sat thinking, physically exhausted and mentally restless, her mind rerunning the images that had awoken her over and over.

Lifeless eyes stared at the wall, glazed, as she took another sip. Tap… tap… tap… The cigarette wasn't lit, but she damn sure wished it was.

Turning away from the subject of her dreams, Wendy found herself dwelling on another topic instead – the enigmatic Autobot leader. She found herself drawn to him, anchored by his presence, and similarly disturbed by her growing need of him. She'd never needed anyone in her life. Now, she lived and breathed this bot, talked constantly with him, fought for and with him, found herself wondering what his life had been and what his dreams were. What he might do if the war ever ended.

She drank the last of the tea and set it aside – tossed the cigarette across the room as if it'd offended her. Curling into a ball, she tucked her arms under her head, stared listlessly at nothing. Wondered what Optimus was doing – probably sleeping. But if he wasn't, what was he doing? Escaping dreams that wouldn't lay the past to rest? Dwelling on thoughts and images that haunted like ghosts? If anyone might understand the pain of regret, it was him. They had that much in common.

And so, eventually, Wendy slipped back into slumber, her face gently light by the dull light, her dreams consisting of friends, regrets, and unlit cigarettes.

* * *

><p>"He's so… frustrating sometimes."<p>

Wendy was sitting on the raised platform near Ratchet's workspace, watching him put something together. Feet dangling over the edge, arms folded over the lower bar in the railing, she spoke to him. "I get that he's the leader and he's supposed to act a certain way, but he doesn't have to be a stick in the mud." Frowning, she glanced up at Ratchet. "Is it just me or does he avoid getting closer to everyone else on base?"

"You are correct," Grunting, Ratchet adjusted some bolt with a heavy pull, then turned towards her. "In many ways it is a defensive mechanism. As leader he has sent many of his soldiers out into the field, only for them never to return. Getting… 'attached' complicates things."

Nodding, Wendy set her chin on her arms. "I can understand that… but he completely cuts himself off of everybody else. That can't be healthy."

A sardonic chuckle came from the medic as he continued working. "Trust me, I've told him that before. He does not listen to me." After making a few more adjustments, he raised his head again. "I've known Optimus longer than anyone else – I knew him before the war, before he was a Prime. Things… changed, and I believe he still struggles with those changes." Bright optics landed on her, and to her surprised, softened somewhat. "I did not think he would ever open himself up to anyone again, after what happened. But here you are: a little human who was managed what I could not."

Confused, Wendy narrowed her eyes. "What you could not?"

Smirking, Ratchet glanced away. "I have tried to help him feel at peace with the past, but nothing came of it." With a snort he looked at her again. "In a couple of months you have accomplished more than I have in eons."

Embarrassed, Wendy frowned. "He hasn't talked about the past to me. I can't get him to open up, either."

"But he has talked to you. I don't think you understand how strange that is." Ratchet shook his head. "With the others, Optimus would speak to give orders, to discuss the mission, or he would speak when spoken to. With me, it was slightly different; we are still friends, and when we are alone he will talk to me." A big finger came near her, pointing. "You are the only one he talks to frequently – initiating conversations, spending his free time with you. That is completely out of character for him."

Surprised, the human stared up at the medic and felt her face flush. "Huh… I – hadn't realized that. Now I feel bad."

"What the slag for!"

"You obviously care a lot about him; I feel kinda rude, nosin' my way in here." She admitted. Ratchet grunted and dropped his hand.

"It doesn't matter. If Optimus is happier because of you, I am satisfied." The medic turned back to his machine, and Wendy began to stand and stretch. "And in case you didn't know… Fowler had planned on taking you into the witness protection program; remove your tattoo, change your name and move you halfway across the country. Optimus refused."

Confused, Wendy shrugged. "He must've thought the Decepticons would catch on, right?"

Ratchet did a good impression of rolling his optics, and shrugged. "_Right_."

* * *

><p>"Hey, guys," Wendy strode towards the kids as they stepped out ofoff of their "rides". "How was school?"

"All right."

"Booooring!"

"Good."

The youngest stepped up to Wendy with a newspaper in hand. "I think it's all there," He grimaced. "Everyone in my family reads a different part, but I think I found them all…"

Grinning, Wendy took it. "It's fine, Raf. Thanks." The boy beamed at her, before turning towards Bumblebee. As the boy and the bot went off to play video games, Wendy began to tuck the paper under her arm, to read the next day; but something caught her eye… frowning, the woman flipped it open, stared at the front page.

The paper flopped to the floor out of her limp hands. No one really noticed; Optimus, Arcee, and Ratchet were busy talking patrols, while the rest were surrounding the TV and powering up the game system. It gave Wendy time to grab the paper and collect herself, trying to make a show of not rushing from the room.

But once she was out of sight, she put on some speed and raced down the hall, practically slamming into her bedroom door. It opened and she vanished inside, tearing the paper apart in order to find the corresponding page with the continued article.

She read both pages in haste, wide eyes flickering over the words, mouth slowly coming to hang open. When she'd finished, she let them fall to the floor, collapsing on the bed. Stunned. A hand slowly came up to brush over her eyes.

Minutes passed. Finally her hand fell down, and when it did, her wide eyes had gone hard, like stone, glaring at the door. She gave a roar and pounded her bed with her fists. Shaking, Wendy bit her lip, tried to keep her anger down.

When she was calm again, she looked across the room to her desk and what lay on it: her pistol.

* * *

><p>"Hey, where'd you run off to?" Bulkhead asked as Wendy reentered the room.<p>

"Just needed a little peace and quiet, which is impossible with y'all around," She grinned good-naturedly, taking the stairs two at a time. She stood by the couch with the kids and watched them play.

"Wanna try?" Miko asked from the other end of the couch. Wendy gave a laugh.

"I've never played video games before, Miko. I'd be crushed."

"Never!" All three kids shouted at once. Both the human woman and the two bots got a kick out of that.

"I was a poor country girl; we didn't have game consoles where I grew up." Wendy admitted with a shrug, both hands in her pockets.

"It's never too late to try." Raf held his controller towards her, and for a moment, Wendy stared at it blankly. But suddenly she grinned and shook her head.

"No, thanks, Raf. I'd rather watch y'all." Her hands never left her pockets. Frowning, Raf glanced at her, then to the screen, before nodding and returning to the game.

Later that night, when it was time to take the kids home, Wendy stepped towards Bumblebee and asked to join them. "I could use some fresh air. Mind if I come along?"

Bee chirped cheerfully, and the kids were glad to have her. The four piled into the yellow Camaro. Wendy walked over to the driver's side, pulling the door open, but she hesitated for just a moment when she did. Briefly she glanced over her shoulder to where Optimus stood.

The Autobot noticed her gaze, and met it, giving a nod. Wendy smirked in return.

"See ya around… boss." The smirk became a grin as she stepped into the Camaro, and the four took off into the night.

Once the kids had been returned home, Bumblebee began to turn around and return to base. They passed a small motel, and Wendy's eyes caught it. "Park for a sec, would you, Bee?" The Camaro did so happily, and Wendy stepped out, moving around to the sidewalk. She gave a stretched and looked up to the motel with fond eyes.

"It's been a while since I stayed in a place like this… almost makes me feel nostalgic." Smiling, she turned to the car. "I think I'll stay here tonight, if that's all right Bee." Confused, the car made some warbling noises. "It's just… I've been separated from human society a lot recently – I could use some time away from base." Bee began to protest again, and Wendy guessed what he was saying. "I know Optimus would freak and worry about my safety – but I'll be fine. The chance of a 'con bein' in Jasper is tiny – and it's only one night. You could pick me up here tomorrow when you come to get the kids." Bee gave another coo, but it sounded less reluctant than the others. "Please?"

After some cajoling, the Autobot gave in, and Wendy waved and watched him go from the sidewalk. After he had gone some ways, but was still slightly visible, she made a show of walking into the motel. Then, she sat within, and waited twenty, thirty minutes. Then Wendy stood and left.

Out on the streets again, Wendy began walking, eyes moving about fast, looking for something in particular. When she found it, she hurried inside.

At the front desk, she pulled out her wallet and a huge hunk of cash.

"I need to rent a car."

* * *

><p>The rental was a Pontiac Bonneville; older, but a nice model. Wendy found herself wondering what kind of Transformer might choose to be a Bonneville. Someone slick and classy maybe… quickly she forced herself to stop thinking of those things, or else guilt might cloud her head.<p>

The car had a GPS; she turned to the screen, filled in the address of her destination.

Elizabethtown, North Carolina.

* * *

><p>It took a little longer than two days to make it there. The longer it took, the more paranoid Wendy felt – the more often she checked the road for a red and blue semi, or an ambulance, or any of the others. She never saw them. Either they were good at hiding, or they hadn't caught her trail, or… they hadn't bothered following.<p>

She didn't want them to follow; but it that irrational, human desire for someone to care, Wendy would admit to feeling hurt if they didn't at least try.

The roads became narrower, cracked and discolored and thin all the way to the horizon. Farms and farmland covered the land for miles; corn stalks fading to brown from lack of rain, old barns caving in from disuse. Every so often a little old house, with a front porch and a chimney leaning off the roof, would appear, and then vanish as she drove by. Some of the houses had people – cars in the front, gardens well tended. Others were abandoned, left to rust and fill with dust long after the owners had moved or died.

Eventually Wendy came to just such a house and pulled into the long drive. She drove another fifty feet to the house over the gravel, then came to a stop in front of an old, two story home. The paint, once yellow, was now putrid and fading; the sidewalk cracked and dirty; no plants grew in the yard, though weeds and extremely tall grass were everywhere. The front door was boarded over.

Wendy stepped out of the car, taking it all in; some of the windows were shattered, others on the verge of being so. Cobwebs and birds nest filled the gutters and littered the roof. No one had lived there for a long time.

One thing about it all seemed odd – though wooden boards had been nailed to the doorframe, someone had opened the door. Wendy moved closer, and heard cracks beneath her feet. Her eyes flew down – glass. Someone had shattered the storm door. Stepping closer, Wendy found the boards were position where one could step over the first and duck under the second. She did just that, warily avoiding what was left of the storm door, before stepping inside.

The inside was even more decrepit and derelict. Everything was dark, broken, dusty. The room Wendy had entered was the front hall – directly in front of her was a thin stairwell, all the more ominous looking from the lack of light coming from above. To the right was a wall, but to her left was a sliding door. Yellow and brown glass made a pretty mosaic on the upper half – stained wood the bottom. Once it had been gorgeous, but now, the wood was scratched to hell, and parts of the mosaic were shattered. Through the holes Wendy could see what was left of the kitchen.

It was there, seated at the kitchen table, that she saw him. A man sitting slouched in an old wooden chair, his rough boots on the kitchen table, a cigarette in his hand. His back was to her; all she could see of his head was his brown hair, peppered with grey. But she knew who he was.

Grimacing, Wendy removed her pistol from her pocket immediately throwing the sliding doors open as she did. What was left of the mosaic crumbled and hit the floor with a deafening crash.

Her gun was trained on him in moments and she let out a snarl. "Don't you dare fuckin' move."

He didn't, really; his head turned a bit, and he moved his cigarette from his lips, but other than that, he stayed still. But he didn't have to really turn to see her. A big mirror filled the opposite wall ahead of them, revealing him to her, and her to him. There was a shotgun in his lap.

The man smirked at her reflection. "Well whaddya know. Dreams do come true."

"Shut up, old man, I'm the one doin' the talkin'." She gestured with her gun for emphasis. "How the hell'd you get out?"

"I made friends. Funny the things you can do when you've got a partner." The light hearted, teasing tone he'd had before darkened and turned outright vicious. "Course… when yer partner turns sour on ya… well… that's when shit gets ugly."

"I wasn't your 'partner'." She spat. "Who helped you!"

"I did."

Stunned, Wendy spun her head around to the speaker behind her. She knew the man from his voice, even before she saw him. "You," She muttered.

"Silas," the man smirked at her, gave a little bow. "In case you forgot." He had his own gun trained on her.

The click of a shotgun cocking had Wendy turning her head back to the other. "Now, don't go forgettin' little old me." He teased, now having spun around to face the woman.

Furious, the woman's glare moved from one to the other. "… you baited me."

"Of course; after we realized you had somehow come back into contact with the Autobots, we knew you could be our key to finally capturing one them." Silas came closer to her, his free hand coming around her to grab the gun in her hand. He was much too close – but Wendy sneered and jammed her elbow into his throat. As he gasped and fell back, she spun and turned her gun on him.

"I'm not leadin' you to them," Wendy insisted; cold steel touched the base of her spine.

"Oh, don't worry yer head about that. They'll be comin' after you, of course." The man with the shotgun came closer, whispered into her ear. "My man Silas' told me bout yer new crew… they're probably already on their way." The shotgun shoved against her back hard. "But don't go thinkin' we need you alive. Now that the trap's set… we don't really need you at all."

"Don't kill her yet," Silas, rubbing his throat, muttered. "Though the trap is set, we may still need a… pacifier, if you will. But once this is over… she's all yours."

The man grinned against her ear. "Why, thank you kindly,"

Silas came up and snatched her gun away, before punching her in the face. With a gasp she fell to her knees, spinning from the pain. Blood poured over her lip.

"Keep her here for now." The brute of a man then left out some back entrance, leaving Wendy with her captor. Glancing up through lidded eyes, she saw the grin on his face.

"We're gonna have some fun."

His boot raced towards her, collided – then nothing.

* * *

><p>Being friends with the Autobots was something else. There were good days, bad days, dammit-it-all-to-hell days. Trials and tribulations would arise, and be defeated. There were fun times – relaxing times – and there were days when it seemed like nothing could go wrong.<p>

And then came the days where it looked like there might not be any more days to come at all.


	5. Captured

What had once been her childhood home was now her prison.

She was locked in her old bedroom – a place she hadn't touched in almost fifteen years. They'd left in a hurry that night; most of her belongings had been left behind. There was a book on her bed, still opened to the page she'd been reading. Lifting her weary limbs, Wendy flipped it closed, to see the cover. "Alice in Wonderland".

Grunting, she lowered her arm slowly and gently to the comforter. Everything ached. The shotgun man had beaten her within an inch of her life, and left her to bleed on her bed. The faded multi-colored quilt soon turned crimson.

Wendy half wondered if there was hope for a rescue. She wasn't one to wait for help, but she would admit the situation looked dire. She couldn't fight… him… and all of Mech on her own, in her state. Backup was needed.

But… Glancing to the window, to the dull rays of light shining through, she felt worry clench her gut. Any bot that came after her would be walking into a trap. Not to mention the fact none might be coming… what if they thought she'd abandoned them? Gotten tired of the Autobot life and left? They could be furious with her. They probably didn't even know she was in trouble.

Then she realized the time, and recognized the red hue of the light. Sunset. The woman gave a light sigh and closed her eyes.

She could see the cliff in her mind's eye; the brilliance of the light echoing out over the rocky terrain. It had come to be the most peaceful , most beautiful thing on Earth to her, somehow. Everything associated with that place brought her comfort… sitting there day after day with Optimus, sometimes in silence, sometimes enjoying each other's speech and laughter. It was as close to heaven as she might ever get.

Eyes opened and she found herself in reality again, in hell. Pain raced up her spine as she tried to move. She had to do something other than sit and wait whatever fate might be coming. With a grimace she straightened her back, forced her feet to the floor, and stood carefully. Wendy approached the window and parted the blinds.

She couldn't see them, but she knew they were out there – MECH. Awaiting the arrival of the one she was sure would come for her. For despite all her insecurities and questions of whether anyone would show, Wendy knew in her heart that there was one she could always count on to be there.

But if he came for her now… dozens upon dozens of armed vehicles and soldiers prepared to fight Transformers would swarm him and anyone else who came along. Fear of what would inevitably happen to anyone who tried to save her made her throat clench; and forced her to come to a dark conclusion.

* * *

><p>Currently, the shotgun man was the only one in the house with her. If MECH was near, she didn't know where, or how far away. But she could hear the shotgun man pacing down below, restless; she was surprised he wasn't coming up for another visit. Wendy was honestly somewhat ashamed she hadn't put a better fight up the first time – she didn't remember the man being so strong when they fought before. She'd have to act faster the second time around…<p>

Suddenly footsteps came echoing up the stairs. Wendy lifted her head and glared at the door as it opened and revealed him. He, for once, didn't appear angry – instead, a smug grin covered his rough face, which boded ill for her.

"Lunch is ready," He nodded his head towards the right. "It's waitin' for ya." Then he turned to the left and walked down the stairs.

Confused, Wendy narrowed her eyes. Was he trying to trick her? Her stomach gave a growl and she realized she had to try and get the food, anyway. If there was any food…

Standing slowly, Wendy leaned against the bed, then her desk, then the wall as she stumbled to the door. Standing in the doorframe, she glanced to the right. Eyes widening, she took in the sight of the last door on the hall – standing partially ajar.

Grief and utter terror filled her whole being. Wendy stared at the door, transfixed, horrified by its mere presence. Slowly she stepped into the hall, leaning against the wall, and walked towards it. Even as she grew closer it seemed to loom over her, intimidating, daunting.

A trembling hand reached for the doorknob, but in the end, she shoved it open, unable to force her hand still enough to hold it.

Once the door opened the room within was revealed. It was a bedroom – a large king bed took up most of the room, an orange quilt covering it. There was an old lamp, fallen to the floor, the pieces of its light bulb littering the carpet. Against the far wall stood a tall vanity, and beneath it, someone had pushed a little stool to it, as if needing help to reach the top.

But none of these things had Wendy's eyes. No, her bloodshot, horrified eyes were staring at the floor just in front of the door.

A huge splatter of blood painted the floor, the walls, the nearby furniture, in the vicinity of the doorway. It was like someone had poured a can of crimson paint upon the carpet – then flicked the rest against everything else. It was everywhere – as if an explosion had occurred. There was so much blood, it was almost inevitable that whoever had shed it, had died almost instantaneously. In fact… the stain on the floor was vaguely shaped like a distorted human form.

Hand flying to her mouth, Wendy gave a whimper. There was no food to be found in that room, only nightmares. Even if there had been food… she would never have taken it. With another whimper, she rushed out and the slammed the door shut behind her, collapsing against it afterwards.

She fell to her knees and sobbed her broken heart out.

* * *

><p>A rough kick to her side woke her up. "It's fer you."<p>

Wendy hadn't even realized she'd fallen asleep. Groaning, she grimaced when another kick got her. That was when she realized she was hearing her cell phone go off.

A wave of nausea hit her as she realized who was probably on the line. She sat up quickly, grabbed for it on the third ring. Trembling hands pulled it open, but she made sure her voice, at least, was strong.

"Yeah?"

"Wendy!" It was Jack; she grimaced as if his voice was painful. A nudge against her forehead reminded her of the shotgun the other was holding. The message was clear; no funny stuff. "What happened? Optimus went to find you last night and you weren't at the hotel! Where are you?"

This was her big chance – she could do a few different things. She could play off normally, try to keep from getting hurt any more than necessary. But this was the shotgun man… he'd hurt her no matter what. Always had. So that left either: directly or indirectly telling the Autobots she was in trouble. She could shout it right into the phone… or try and be sneaky about it.

If she'd been handed the phone earlier, that was likely what she would have done. But not now – not after seeing that Room. Telling her friends she was in trouble would be putting them in danger for her sake. Risking their lives for hers. She wasn't worth it. She wasn't worth anything.

"What do you want, Jack?"

The shotgun man quirked an eyebrow at her dry, exasperated tone. Wendy smirked at him. He couldn't do anything, not yet. If he interfered while she was on the phone, they would realize something was up. Sure… he could hurt her once she hung up… but he couldn't stop her.

"What do I – What are you talking about! Where'd you go?"

"On the road again, Jackie," She said matter-of-factly.

"What? Without saying goodbye? You just – left?"

The hurt tone made her wince but she kept going. "Did you really think I'd stay to play baby sitter forever? I'm a grown woman with a life to live."

"But…" Suddenly he was interrupted by Miko's screaming in the background, loud enough for her to hear.

"We're your friends, right! Friends don't just abandon each other!"

"I'm not your friend!" She shouted back. "Because of y'all, I was tortured and beaten half to death. You think I want any more of your war? I want out, and I'm not givin' y'all the choice of tryin' to follow me!"

"B – But Wendy –" Now Raf was speaking, and his wounded voice hurt her more than any of the others. "We're supposed to stick together –"

She gave an exasperated, annoyed sigh, which did not match the pained, almost in tears expression on her face. "Sorry, Raf. I'm done playing around."

The phone was silent for a moment – then someone new spoke.

"Wendy," She grew stock still, spine stiffening, the pain tripling at his voice – Optimus' voice, pained and confused. "Wendy, come back – if you want to leave, we can arrange something safe with Fowler –"

And this, she knew, would be the clincher, the thing that separated her from them. She'd never see them again. They'd never come to help her. She'd be alone … alone again.

_I'm not worth them dyin' for me._

So she whispered, "Go to hell," and shut the phone.

* * *

><p>The shotgun man had a lot of fun roughing her up after that phone call. Wendy took consolation in the fact that Silas took a turn beating up on him once he found out what had happened.<p>

At this point in the road, there was only one option left for her: death. Unlike with Starscream, who would have tortured her for information, and eventually killed her, the shotgun man would keep her around for a long time. He liked having someone weaker around to beat up on. If she didn't escape him or get rid of him herself – which looked impossible with MECH around – she'd be his punching bag for a long time to come.

_Suicide… might have to be an option._

The thought sickened her – she didn't have much of a view on her own worth, but she still didn't like the idea of taking her own life.

_I'm not going out without at least tryin' to kill that bastard… and maybe Silas too. If I kill him… MECH can't go after the bots anymore._

So the drive to protect the Autobots gave her the strength to continue living through the pain – even as the shotgun man came back upstairs with her dinner, and punched her in the face for good measure. His eyes glistened with rough anger and violence, but he left without doing anything else, surprisingly.

Growling at him as he vanished out the door, Wendy rubbed her burning cheek and felt raw anger fill her. She wasn't going to leave this world yet – she was going to kill that man. And anyone who was planning on preying on the Autobots. MECH was going down.

Even if it killed her.

* * *

><p>When Fowler entered the Autobot base, it was decidedly chiller than usual.<p>

He almost asked who died, but death was a common enough occurrence in their war that he didn't want to risk it being true. Though he had a dark feeling that the dismal attitude of the base had something to do with his reason for visiting…

The kids were all slumped on the couch, depressed, Raf almost on the verge of tears. Bumblebee was near him, cooing sadly, a hand behind the boy. Ratchet looked grumpier than usual, staring at his computer screen without seeming to do anything; while Bulkhead sat in a corner and sulked. Arcee was near Jack, deep in thought, and Optimus…

"Where's Optimus?" At first, no one seemed to hear him. Then he saw Optimus – he'd been standing in the shadow of the dark hallway to the far left, but turned and stepped into the light at Fowler's call. He looked… terrible. Dismal. Torn between anger and depression, his usual strong face appearing weak with sorrow. "What's with the long faces?"

"Wendy's gone," Raf mumbled, wiping his eyes.

"Left without warning… and told us to 'go to hell' when we called her about it." Arcee clarified. "Not to mention a lot of other cruel things to the kids." He could tell by her tone of voice that Arcee was really pissed.

"Shit!" Fowler stomped his foot. "I got here too late!"

"What are you talking about?" Jack murmured quietly.

"I'm talking about Wendy! She tricked you guys good!"

Bulkhead gave an awkward laugh. "Trust us, Fowler, she meant every word."

"No, she didn't – and this is why."

Unfurling the paper under his arm, Fowler held it up towards Optimus. The big bot, seeming strangely reserved and tense, slowly knelt to it. The kids stood and ran over to see.

"A prisoner escaped jail… what does that have to do with anything?" Ratchet asked over Optimus' shoulder.

Fowler grimaced. "We have reason to believe this jackass had help getting out – MECH's help. The clues all point to it."

"Why?" Arcee asked. "Why would they want him?"

"Simple. Bait." Fowler explained. "He's the perfect incentive they need to bait you guys into a trap."

"How? We don't know the guy!" Miko shouted. She seemed overly angry, too.

Fowler's look grew dark. "This man's name is Quentin Martin." The others didn't quite catch it right away – but Optimus' optics grew wide. Ratchet appeared thoughtful, on the verge of realization. "And he is Gwendolyn Martin's father."

"Wendy's dad ?" Raf asked. Fowler gave a nod and continued.

"He physically and emotionally abused her for years before being captured by the police, arrested for all sorts of things, not the least being child abuse. Now that he's free, well… I can bet that Wendy's heading for him, and if you search her room, you'll probably find her pistol is missing."

"She's going to kill him." Arcee muttered.

"Serves him right," Bulkhead said, standing and crossing his big arms.

"But you said MECH was involved." Ratchet walked over quickly, his thoughts coming together. "Which means –"

"Which means Wendy is walking into a trap set by MECH." Optimus finished, his voice growing deeper, darker… angrier.

"Or she already has. If MECH meant for her to be bait for you guys…" Fowler began.

"She told us off." Jack's eyes went wide. "She was trying to piss us off so we wouldn't come after her! She was protecting you guys!"

The realization of what she had done for them hit all the Autobots at once, and whatever anger they had towards Wendy found a new direction. Optimus clenched his fist.

"We have to find her. Now." He whispered ominously, sounding fiercer than her ever had.

"I'll bet my government salary she headed home – North Carolina, in a little town in the middle of nowhere. Perfect place for MECH to set up a base where no one would notice." Ratchet had already rushed back to his computer, tying in the coordinates as quickly as possible.

"You don't think we'll be too late, do you?" Raf asked Bee. The yellow bot didn't know what to say, simply closing his hand gently around his friend's back, like a hug.

"Chances are she's still alive. They won't have given up hope of us coming for her just yet." Ratchet gave a grimace and pulled the lever, and the ground bridge roared to life.

"If this is a trap… what's our plan?"

Optimus stared into the bridge, eyes narrowed.

"Fowler… alert your people of the situation." He began. The man was already nodding and running off, heading back to his workplace. "Ratchet, remain at base with the children, and call Ms. Darby. We will likely need her when Wendy returns."

Ratchet gave a nod, face grave. "Of course."

"Arcee, Bulkhead, Bumblebee, we shall go after Wendy. I do not know what awaits us, but I will not allow her to be captive to MECH for a moment longer."

The three all nodded approvingly, Bumblebee giving a few angry beeps and punching his palm. Then the four rushed towards the ground bridge.

"Autobots… Roll out!"

* * *

><p>It wasn't long before Silas came to visit – and he wasn't very happy.<p>

The man slammed her against the wall, hand around her throat. "I can appreciate loyalty and determination. I can even say that I admire your strength of will – but I do not appreciate your interference in my plans."

Silas's heavy weight kept her pinned, virtually unable to move. "Y – Yeah, well, can't say I appreciate your breath – ever heard of a toothbrush?"

The man grinned at her, shoving his teeth into her vision. "Very amusing." He dropped her, then turned to saunter from the room, past two of his guards. "If the Autobots do not show in the next 24 hours, kill her," He told the shotgun man in the doorway.

But before he could step out of the room completely, Wendy sprang into action. They had thought her beaten, thought her too weak to move – they would regret their mistake. The woman sprung to her feet and onto one of the guards, snatching the gun from his hands while he was too surprised to react. Before Silas could turn towards her, she turned it on him and fired.

What she didn't count on was the other guard throwing himself in the way. A dead body fell to the floor – just not the body she'd been hoping for. But by then the other guard came to his senses and tackled her, wrestling her for the gun. She fought valiantly – but lack of rest and food made her weak, and he took it back easily.

Silas came to stand over her, smirking. "Nice try. But as I said… I value loyalty." He turned and stepped over the corpse of his "loyal" soldier, and left the room. The shotgun man looked down at the mess, smiled, and then turned to her.

"Looks like yer always killin' the wrong person, aincha?" Then he left her, slamming the door shut.

Frustrated, weak, and depressed, Wendy brought her legs up and looked away from the dead man. She tried not to feel guilty – he was a MECH soldier, one who would have willingly killed any of her friends for the sake of scientific research. Frowning, Wendy stood and moved towards the window, feeling weaker than she ever had.

She heard the front door open, and looked down to see the shotgun man on the porch, enjoying a cigarette. A new plan came to mind… she had no idea if it would work, but she would try just about anything…

Glancing quickly around her room for anything heavy enough to break the window, Wendy's eyes found a large porcelain statue. It was a unicorn – something her mother had found for her the flea market one day. It was beautiful, and she hated to break it – but she hated the shotgun man even more.

So she grabbed it and ran back to the window. Luckily, the glass was already broken from years of disrepair, so she simply held her hands out, aimed, and dropped it. A heavy thunk, a cry of pain, and the sound of shattering porcelain gave her a rush of excitement. Wendy glance out and saw that yes, it worked! He was unconscious! Not dead… not yet…

Her room wasn't locked – they probably thought her too weak to escape – so she moved as fast as she could out of the room and down the stairs. She glanced to the backyard – Silas was there, standing near a helicopter. He probably didn't hear the shatter over the whirr of the blades. Thanking her lucky stars, she darted into the kitchen, careful to kneel and stay out of sight. Then, she grabbed the first kitchen knife she could find.

Wendy rushed back to the front door, anger and adrenaline fueling her movements, holding the knife in a death grip.

There he was – body awkwardly strewn across the front porch, blood oozing from a gash on his head. The figure which had haunted and horrified her since she'd been born. The shotgun man – her father – weak and at her mercy.

The knife trembled in her hands as she raised it above him, eyes widening as she felt a thousand thoughts assault her. Memories and images of pain at this man's hands, pain which would end right – now – with one thrust of the knife. One thrust. Her hands trembled.

The slam of the back door opening woke her up with a gasp, head rising. Silas's men had seen her, and were struggling to get through the demolished house. Wendy dropped the knife and sprang to her knees, using strength she didn't know she had to propel herself across the grass.

She ran and ran and ran further and further, into the corn fields across the road, further and further. She didn't know if they were far behind, didn't know if she could escape, but all she could think of was running.

On and on through the tall stalks she raced, heart pound, wounds aching, thoughts spinning in a thousand loops. _Why couldn't I kill him? Why?_ On she went, feeling weakness settle in. She couldn't keep this up forever.

Eventually her legs became numb and her lungs burned for air, and she simply couldn't push on anymore. She didn't know if they were still following, didn't really care – simply fell to the ground and felt grief overwhelm her.

Where was she running to? There was no where to go. The Autobots were lost to her, and she had no other friends in the world. Did she truly want to return to the emptiness of her life before?

_Was that just an interlude? A dream that couldn't last? I don't want to go back to that life before… I don't want to be empty again…_

Tired eyes glanced up and she saw, just outside the stalks she was currently hidden in, another road. She stared at it listlessly, eyes burning with unshed tears – until she saw something.

A blue and red big rig went by – then a green truck – followed by a blue motorcycle and a yellow Camaro. She couldn't believe her eyes. Was she dreaming? Shock gave her strength as she pushed herself up and lunged for the road.

There they were, tearing down the road. Her tears finally escaped her eyes as Wendy scarcely believed what she saw_. They weren't supposed to come after me…_

"OPTIMUS!"

The screech of burning rubber told her he'd heard her, and soon all the Autobots were turning around. Optimus had somehow, in a flash, gone from being at the far end, to zooming around his soldiers towards her, so that he was leading again. Grinning, Wendy hardly noticed her pain and agony as she stood and raced towards him.

The four raced towards her, and she stumbled towards them, vision blurring as she pushed her body to its final edge. They were within reach – so close – then a giant hand closed around her. It was not one of theirs.

Horrified eyes turned to see a giant metal face she did not recognize – crudely fused together, incomplete, its inner wires showing through, its features uneven and welded awkwardly. It was no Cybertronian.

"Silas!"

That booming voice was Optimus' all right, and it brought a sense of relief and comfort to her she hadn't felt in what seemed like so long. But the danger wasn't over; Optimus and his crew transformed and slid to a halt nearby, as Silas and his men stepped out of the corn stalks.

"Good to see you again," The scarred man muttered. "What brings you to our neck of the woods?"

"You know very well!" He bellowed, fists clenched and trembling. His eyes glowered down at the insect, flaring and intense. "Release her!"

Instead of obeying, Silas snapped his fingers – and suddenly pain inflamed Wendy's chest.

"A – Ahhh! F - Fuck!" She cursed and writhed as the beast squeezed her, and Silas gave a laugh.

"You might want to be more polite, alien." Silas spat. "We are bettered prepared for you this time." He stalked over to the grotesque, Frankenstein beast that held Wendy. "Do you like our creation? Thanks to the Decepticon Breakdown's contribution to our cause, we were able to create him. But he's still… incomplete." Smirking, Silas crossed his arms behind his back and looked to Optimus. "We need another test subject…"

"No way in hell you're getting your hands on another bot!" Bulkhead shouted.

"Oh, really?" A dark laugh came from the human. "Then I suppose you have no qualms with us taking this human as a test subject, hmm? She may not be able to help us construct our metal beast, … but I bet she'll be entertaining anyway…"

"No!" Optimus shouted, which put Silas' eyes on him.

"No? Then who should I take as a subject? I'm not leaving without someone for our research…" Silas gave a sly grin, relishing in the fact that he knew he had them backed into a corner.

The bots were beginning to realize it too – Optimus first, his features falling into grim lines; then his soldiers, who grew both concerned and frustrated at what to do. But before any one of them could speak, Optimus did.

"I shall take her place."

"Don't y – you fuckin' dare!" Wendy managed to shout through the pain. The beast squeezed her harder. "A – AHHH! D – DON'T DO IT OPTIMUS!"

"You shall? How very noble." Silas looked like the cat who caught the canary, grinning broadly.

"Optimus, no, let me go." Arcee strode to the front, placing a hand on her leader's shoulder. "You're too important to sacrifice like this. I can do it."

"No, choose me, Prime, I can take it!" Bulkhead protested, stepping forward as well. Bumblebee made his own plea in a series of fast beeps and squeaks, but Prime shook his head.

"It was my duty to protect Wendy, and I failed. I shall pay the price." The pain in his eyes at the idea he failed her almost stopped Wendy's heart – he looked so morose, so disappointed. Her soul quaked with the knowledge of what he was doing.

"Optimus – please – I'm not worth it!" She whispered, unable to call upon the strength to shout. Desperation almost drove her to tears – he couldn't do this, no, not for her, he couldn't sacrifice himself like this… "Please…"

"How sweet. She pins for you like a lover." Silas spat with a dark grimace. "Send your soldiers back to base, and come along quietly. We will assure you Gwendolyn's safety as long as you cooperate."

"Optimus, this is nuts –" But Arcee was ignored as the Prime suddenly said, with great conviction, "Autobots, return to base."

The three looked horrorstruck, mouths agape, seemingly torn between helplessness and shock at what was happening.

"Prime…" But when he turned his fiery optics on them, they knew better than to object. Still fuming, Arcee called Ratchet for a ground bridge. Once the call shut off, she glowered.

"Ratchet would beat us all if he knew what you were doing." The femme spat.

"I do not need his permission to make my own choices." Optimus returned. "Return to base. And Arcee…" Just as the three were turning to enter the ground bridge that had appeared, Optimus placed his hand on Arcee's shoulder. "You are in command now."

Her optics widened, then narrowed with shame and anger. "I shouldn't be." But she turned and stalked off, entering the bridge last, and then it shut.

Clapping entered the air. "Quite the show, Optimus. Such a tearful goodbye." Silas joked, stepping forward. "Now if you'd be so kind as to transform and follow us."

"And Wendy?"

The woman was still shouting at him to go, to stop doing this, but no one was listening. "She will be released once we have you in our base, on our operating table. No sooner." The man promised darkly. Optimus gave a slight nod, then transformed.

Wendy watched all this with horrified, tear filled eyes, unable to stop any of it… until pain and weakness finally turned her vision dark.

* * *

><p>When next she woke, Wendy was in a dark, dank prison cell<em>. Big surprise<em>, she thought. _My life seems made of various kinds of prisons._

A single guard stood watch outside; a tray of food, like a peace offering sat on the floor nearby. Wendy scowled at it, but didn't turn it down. If she was going to do anything about her current circumstances, she'd need all her strength.

Groaning, she forced herself over to the tray, and began to eat. The guard heard her moving.

"About time you woke up. We've been here for hours."

The idea froze her soul. "… then Optimus is…"

"The alien life form is being prepped. Any moment now they'll begin." The man, wearing a helmet to hide his face, turned to her. "Do you realize how much the technology taken from this beast will help humanity? How can you care about this creature more than you care about your own kind?"

Bitter, frustrated, and on the verge of agony, Wendy spat, "He's treated me better than any of my 'own kind' ever have." Eyes narrowed in anger, she continued to eat, mind racing a mile a minute.

She felt piercing, sharp pain in her chest as if it were she they were about to cut to pieces. Wendy had to do something, had to stop this NOW, before the one person she really cared about was killed in the most vicious and violent of ways. Utter terror at the idea of failing made her tremble, but she forced herself to remain calm, to keep eating, to try and think of some way out of this horrific situation.

There didn't seem to be one. She had no idea where she was, where Optimus was, and she couldn't get out of this cell. The Autobots probably had no idea where to find them, and without back up, there was no way Wendy could stop them. But even as she thought these fatalistic things, an idea did occur to her… a long shot… but she would try anything at this point.

The food was gone, and Wendy stood, approaching the bars, gripping them with her weary hands. "Hey… can you take me to him?" The guard turned to her, incredulous, but she sped on. "He's my best friend. I can't sit here, knowing he's suffering – knowing he's being tortured and killed – and be content. I – I have to be there for him. Even if it's just to say goodbye." Even if she did have an ulterior motive, her voice trembled with real pain, her eyes filled with real tears. The words moved her to utter despair.

The guard saw her agony and gave a sigh. "I suppose it can't hurt." He pulled the keys off his belt, and went about unlocking the door.

And as soon as the door was unlocked – SLAM. She shoved it against him hard, taking him by surprise; then she followed it up by racing around the door, kicking him in a very weak spot, and elbowing the part of his face she could see. He fell to the ground groaning, still half away – she removed his helmet, then kicked his face hard.

"Sorry, buddy – but I'm not giving up just yet." She muttered. Then, glancing around for others, she grabbed him and dragged him into the cell.

* * *

><p>The helmet was really uncomfortable and made it hard to see, but it was perfect for disguising her.<p>

No one could tell it was her – at first she'd been terrified she'd be noticed right away, but as it was, she was walking through the enemy base with no problem. But Wendy knew they'd realize what had happened all too soon; she only had a limited amount of time to work with.

So she moved as quickly as she could without being suspicious, becoming more and more frantic as time went on. Where were they keeping Optimus? She had to find him before – before –

_Stop freaking out!_ It was terribly hard to concentrate when images of Optimus Prime being torn apart kept filling her mind with horror and her eyes with tears. She had to find him _now_.

But as she thought that, a swinging door brought her out of her mind – another soldier almost walked into her, and she jumped. "Heh, sorry about that," The man muttered before moving on. Wendy watched him go, then turned to look into the door he'd come from.

There she saw something very interesting – a computer terminal.

_Jackpot_.

Glancing around once to make sure no one was watching, Wendy rushed into the computer room. No one else was inside – but who knew when that other guy would return. Rushing into the computer chair, Wendy began examining it.

She had to be able to send out a message somehow! If only she knew more about computers. If we survive this, I'm getting' Raf to teach me everythin' he knows! Wendy ignored the pained thought that Raf might never want to speak to her again, and focused on trying to find a way to communicate.

Eventually she muddled around enough to find a communications program – and though she had no idea what it was doing, she knew she was making a sort of "phone call" over the airwaves. Sophisticated stuff she didn't really understand – she just hoped the Autobots would catch it, or sense it, or something.

Eventually it gave her the option of speaking, so that her voice would transmit over the air waves. Or something… she really didn't know. But with a deep breath, she began projecting, hoping someone would hear.

_Come on, Autobots…_

* * *

><p>Soundwave entered his Masters' throne room to find the usual arguments brewing. Breakdown and Knock Out were standing to the side, wincing in time with the rise of Megatron's voice, whilst Starscream whimpered and cowered beneath the onslaught. He was, as per usual, the main focus of the Leader's rage. Megatron was snarling and closing in on the second in command when Soundwave stepped forward to announce his presence.<p>

Megatron knew that was his soldier's way of asking permission to speak, and so raised his head and shouted, "What!"

With a click, Soundwave began playing the message he'd intercepted.

"… _Hey! Anybody hear me! This is Gwendolyn Martin, aka Wendy, of the Autobots! I'm a prisoner of MECH's, currently impersonating one of their soldiers in their communications center. They are using me as a hostage to keep Optimus Prime captive! They're about to carve him up like a Thanksgiving turkey and I don't have the firepower to stop them! I need back up! We're somewhere in the country side of eastern North Carolina – I repeat, this is Gwendolyn Martin, Optimus Prime is being held captive by MECH and they're about to dissect him alive_!"

The optics of every con in the room rose. That was not something one expected – Optimus Prime, the great leader of the Autobots, at the mercy of humans? Knock Out glanced casually up at his partner, to where his optic used to be, before MECH found him. The 'con winced, perhaps in sympathy for the enemy leader.

"… Prime is captive… to a bunch of fleshbags!" Megatron shouted, either enraged by the idea or amused by it. One couldn't be sure.

"And so is that puny human who dared scratch my paint!" Knock Out muttered, crossing his arms. He sure knew how to keep a grudge. At the mention of the 'puny human', Megatron's optics narrowed, seemingly in thought… or anger.

"What should we do, Lord Megatron?" Breakdown asked. The hulking beast turned on him and Breakdown immediately regretted speaking.

"What should we do? Nothing! Our greatest enemy is about to be torn apart by humans! Why should we do anything!" But then he seemed to freeze mid shout, optics turning downward. "Why…" Almost to himself, he continued to speak. "Why…"

Soundwave did not care either way if they did or did not do something – he had found information, he'd given it – that was the extent of his duty. But he did watch curiously the myriad expressions that flitted over his Master's face, from anger, to curious, to frustrated, to an almost whimsical expression that was terribly off putting.

"Where does the message originate?" Soundwave pulled up the map detailing the location of MECH's base on his face screen. "Hmm…" A long, sharp finger caressed Megatron's chin as he thought. "Knock Out. Breakdown." Both jumped as he called their names. "Rescue that pathetic Prime and his human pet."

At first they seemed surprised, but they recovered quickly. "Of course, my Lord." Knock Out said with a bow, which Breakdown copied. Then the two hurried out of the throne room, still seemingly stunned – but just as he got to the door, Knock Out paused. "May I ask… what made you decide such, my lord?" He posed his question carefully, trying not to be beaten for insubordination. Megatron grunted.

"A debt." He muttered. Knock Out still seemed confused, but he rushed out after Breakdown, and the two left for their mission. As they did, Starscream began to slowly creep towards the other exit.

Megatron did not even turn around when he muttered, "I'm not finished with you."

When Megatron turned from Soundwave back to Starscream, the informant concluded his work was done. He left the throne room, the door shutting behind him blocking out Starscream's panicked cries and pleas.

* * *

><p>Wendy continued her message as long as she could – but when she heard footsteps approaching the office, she shut it off and jumped out of the chair, backing against the far wall. Out of sight of the door, Wendy watched the other enter, and stare at the computer.<p>

"What the hell…" Apparently she hadn't shut it down completely – there was still something there that he knew hadn't been there before. It had been worth a shot. Wendy snuck up slowly and brought her leg up between his, effectively immobilizing him, before slamming her foot into his head and knocking him out.

Well, whether or not her message had worked, she had to keep moving and try and find Optimus. So she snuck out of the office, glancing around, before heading off in another direction. Still there seemed to be no sign –

WHIRRRRR.

Horror hit her like lightning at the sound of a buzz saw flaring to life. Forgetting pretense, Wendy broke into a sprint, rushing towards the source of the sound as fast as she could. The screech of tearing metal broke her heart into tiny pieces but on she ran, burning with rage and pain, rushing past people she paid no mind to. Eventually she came to a set of double doors, burst through it, and found what she was looking for.

The room was enormous – two levels, one a raised platform overlooking the other. Below was Optimus, strapped to a giant metal table, being torn apart by the most grotesque and inhumane looking tools imaginable. Horror and disgust rose in her throat along with bile, but she swallowed it down. Blind with her insatiable anger, Wendy's eyes flew to the control panel.

No one had noticed her burst in just yet; she could still act. There was a gun on her waist, one she could quickly pull and train on anyone in here – glancing across the room, she saw a few targets.

Silas, the cruel man who'd started all this.

Quentin, the beast who dared call himself her "father".

Or the computer terminal which obviously controlled something related to Optimus' torture. Wendy knew exactly which to take down. Three shots in quick succession buried themselves into the computer terminal; and Wendy saw eyes fly up to her. She turned to face the soldiers now closing in on her, ready to fight.

The computer terminal had not, in fact, stopped what was happening to Optimus; she could still hear the horrific sound of his pain from below. He, in fact, wasn't making any noise, stoically taking the pain like a true warrior. It made her heart burn worse.

_I'm gonna save you, big guy, if it's the last thing I do!_

Adrenaline and rage helped her tear through the soldiers. They were not as driven as she; she was fighting for her life, for Optimus' life; they were fighting for a pay check. It was no match. Once they were down, she ran past the rest, rushing towards the place where Silas and Quentin stood.

Quentin raised his shotgun, but Wendy saw him and rolled deftly out of the way. The boom of the shot destroyed more computers against the far wall, but didn't do a thing to her. She began to move again, knowing she had a moment where he could take no shot – and dove at his feet as he began cocking his gun.

He tumbled to the ground with a cry, and she grabbed at the gun, pulling with all her strength. But he was pulling back, and he was much fiercer and stronger than any of MECH's underlings had been. With a heavy shove of his leg he threw her off and then turned on her – but she kicked his gun, knocking it from his hands. The fight became a brawl.

His hands grabbed for her throat, ready to squeeze, but she lifted her legs and kicked his torso as he came closer. With Quentin temporarily shoved out of the way, Wendy raced at Silas. The man was grinning as if her fight was amusing – and easily leapt out of the way of her first punch.

"This is futile. Don't you see your battle has ended before it's even begun?" Silas grabbed her fist, and held it so tight she couldn't escape. "As I've often said, I admire your determination… but this is the end of the line!" He lifted his other gun, revealing a pistol of his own.

But just as Wendy was ready to feel steel tear through her flesh, she heard the boom of an explosion somewhere else in the base. Everyone around stood at attention, confused and slightly concerned. Even Silas narrowed his eyes. He was just about to turn and speak to one of his men when a giant missile tore through the far wall, flying towards them. Wendy, Quentin, and Silas all saw it, eyes wide; Silas let go of her and leapt out of the way, and by doing so, threw Wendy off balance. She fell to the floor just as the missile flew past, arched up and hit the highest part of the wall.

The thunderous boom and great shaking that followed almost threw Wendy off the side of the platform – she grabbed the bottom rung of the railing and hung on tight. Another missile flew through the air, hitting a computer terminal not far away. The bodies of MECHs soldiers burst into flames, flew into pieces in the air, painting the room with their blood and torn organs.

Confused and dazed, Wendy managed to turn and see two figures stepping through a giant hole in the far wall of the room – they had to be Autobots they were so huge. But when they came in further, Wendy's eyes widened to see they weren't Autobots at all. They were Decepticons!

Another burst of missiles hit the soldiers on the platform above her, tearing the metal from the wall. The platform began to fall, jostling Wendy's hold - her hands slipped and she began tumbling through the air. As she fell, her eyes flew down to the wrecked body of Optimus Prime, to the very center of his form. MECH had torn a hole into his chest, not too big, but larger than a human. It led into his chest, and revealed something… a bright light… That light was the last thing Wendy saw as she fell through the hole and lost consciousness.

* * *

><p>It was warm – and comforting – and yet foreign and terrifying. It calmed her and put her on edge, made her feel loved and made her hate herself. It felt like swimming… like floating midair… she struggled with the feeling and tried to reach the surface, but there didn't seem to be one… not for miles and miles…<p>

More alive than she'd ever been, and less herself than ever before, Wendy felt complete and incomplete, whole and yet broken, shown paradise in the distance, yet it is too far to reach. Given hope, and having it torn away in the same instance.

Confused beyond measure, Wendy continued to flail and fight, trying to remember who she was and where she'd come from, where "she" began and ended. But it was impossible, it was like she was meshing with the surrounding liquid, becoming it, her soul spilling out into it. It was the most horrifying feeling for a human, so used to hiding all their thoughts in their heads. To have them spill out uncontrolled was as unnatural to a human as breathing underwater.

Terrified and confused, Wendy tried to struggle, tried to keep from becoming one with whatever was taking hold of her, but she couldn't. And as "Wendy" faded, the "other" became stronger. She felt something else filling her, just as she was filling it. Flashes of memory that weren't hers – emotions she'd never felt – experiences she hadn't lived. What was happening? Who was this stranger who she was now knowing more intimately than she'd ever known anyone?

Before she could make sense of the things she was seeing, the flow began to reverse. Wendy began returning to herself, as the foreign 'soul' returned to where it belonged. A connection between them still remained, as if she could feel the other outside herself, and it was the most repulsive thing she'd ever felt, if only because humans weren't meant to feel that way. Humans were not connected… this was wrong. But now she was connected to – to something, in a way she'd never been before.

That shocking fact was enough to help her break the connection, snapping her mind free of the "other's" as she twisted and fought to free herself. Horror and sickness swelled in her throat, heart pounding in her chest. Then she surfaced, and took the greatest gulp of air she'd ever taken.

"What do you know," A smug voice commented. "She survived."

Tumbling up and out of the crevice in Optimus' chest, Wendy shook and gasped for air, stumbling onto weak feet. Her tired eyes lifted to see Breakdown and Knock Out, standing nearby, chaos and catastrophe surrounding them.

"I'm – I'm gonna hazard a guess and say y'all did this,' She muttered, falling onto her ass on top of Optimus' chest.

"As surprising as it is, yes – we are here to save your miserable hides." Knock Out admitted reluctantly. Wendy gave a weak laugh.

"Not really all that surprising, considerin' how you moon over the boss here," She grinned at both the bot's confused faces.

"'Moon'? What does that mean?"

"Just sayin' you're a tad overly fond of a bot whose supposed to be an enemy." Wendy tried standing again, moving towards the ground. "You like him, don't cha?"

Knock Out scoffed. "You're one to talk."

Wendy raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"You don't fool anyone with the 'He's my guardian' routine – I've seen femmes fawn over their mates much the way you do." Blushing, Wendy slid to the ground.

"Can we agree to argue over who is Optimus Prime's bitch most after we smoke these humans?" Breakdown questioned exasperatedly.

"Fine." Knock Out spat, and moved with Breakdown to pick up the Prime, who was unconscious. Wendy backed away, biting her lip in fear and nervousness, unable to shake the worried feeling in her gut. Alarms were going off all over the base – they needed to get out, and soon.

The bots supported Optimus under his shoulders, and began moving towards the large hole in the wall. Wendy went to follow, but paused at the familiar sound of a gun cocking. Slowly she turned her head to see the very man she'd returned to North Carolina to kill. Quentin was soaked in blood, limping out of the shadows of the fallen platform, but he still had his shotgun. He held it up towards her, as she stared over her shoulder at him.

"Another insect to crush." Breakdown muttered.

"No," Wendy murmured, turning to face Quentin with clenched fists. "This bastard's mine."

The two bots looked down at her determined façade, before Knock Out shrugged. "Suit yourself," The two continued moving with Optimus, while Wendy turned to face her attacker.

Quentin lowered the gun a bit, smirked at his daughter. "Look at you, all grown up. Y'would look just like yer ma… if you didn't have that fuckin' hair cut."

Wendy smirked back. "A young woman on her own is always in danger. I cut my hair like a man's so I wouldn't be targeted so much." Kneeling, she picked up a gun off the floor, dropped by a dead soldier. "But I don't suppose you'd know about doing desperate things to survive."

"You don't suppose… heh… ya don't do ya?" The smirk became a snarl. "What do you think I did, all those years watchin' over your sorry ass hide? Makin' sure you were fed, you had a place to sleep, clothes to wear. But I suppose that wasn't fuckin' much, was it? Ungrateful bitch."

"Don't even try to get pity from me. You're the asshole who beat up a helpless little girl." Wendy clenched her fist around the handle, hands trembling. "What would momma think?"

"Don't you dare bring her into this!" He shouted suddenly, face going red. "Ya have no right!"

"And you don't have the right to call yourself my Pa!" And with that Wendy lifted the gun, aimed, and fired. Quentin ducked out of the way before it could do a thing. Following suit, Wendy rolled out of sight behind some debris, poking her head out. The thunder of the shotgun rang out and she ducked back just as the blast hit a nearby chunk of debris.

Gasping for breath, Wendy darted out during his reload and took a few shots – the first missed, warning him, and he ducked out of the way – and then the click of an empty clip made her curse. She adapted it as a melee weapon, leaping on the man and slamming it into the side of his head. He followed course, practically stabbing her with the shotgun, which hurt like shit. Wendy fell back and he leapt on her. Dragging her legs up she tried throwing him off, but couldn't. Fists like steel began pounding her sore face, over and over, bruises welling up and blood filling her mouth. She spat it in his eyes, then reared back for a head butt.

As he reeled she shoved him off, throwing him on his back, then grabbed the shotgun. Straddling his back, she shoved the gun under his chin and pulled up, immobilizing him.

"What now?" She whispered, leaning down to his ear. It hurt to talk, and blood covered her lips, but she did it anyway. "Now that the little girl's all grown up… she's not so easy to hurt, is she?" Gasping for breath, Wendy paused, trying to hide the sob that had almost come up her throat. "Not so – so easy to control…"

"Y – You – you think you've changed?" Choked laughter escaped him. "You think you've s – suddenly got the power? Y – You're still the same. Still the s – scared little brat who manages to fuck up – e – eveythin'…"

Tears were trailing her cheeks now, but her demeanor and her scowl made her seem vicious, angry. But the suddenly roar of firepower outside made her glance up. Optimus might be in trouble…

"What, you think you c – can help them?" More laughter, dark and cruel. "You're the reason he's here. It's your fault he got hurt in the first place."

Pain and guilt clouded her face. "Shut up,"

"It's always been yer fault – stickin' your nose where it ain't meant to be – "

"I SAID SHUT UP!" Suddenly she stood, foot planted on his back, shotgun aimed down at his head. Quentin gave a long, dark laugh.

"Gonna kill me, little girl? D'ya think ya can?" He snarled. "D'ya think ya got the guts?" He paused, listening to his daughter's rampant breathing, the sobs that managed to escape. "It would be ironic really. Both your parents –"

"SHUT UP!"

" – killed by the same –"

"SHUT UP!"

" – shotgun."

"SHUT UP! GODDAMN YOU, SHUT UP!"

"Wendy?"

The woman's tear stained face snapped up. In the huge doorway the bots had created stood three familiar forms. Miko and Jack in the door, staring in wide eyed, while Raf stepped forward, worry clear on his face. Wendy gave a sob at the sight of them.

"More friends of yers?" Quentin chuckled, then addressed the kids. "If I were y'all, I'd hit the road now.

"Don't talk to them!"

"Afraid of what I might tell them? How much you told these kids anyway? Sure as hell haven't told em the truth, have ya?" Wendy was trembling, but she shoved the barrel of the gun against his head.

"Don't make me –"

"Do it. I dare ya. But we both know ya won't."

A little hand suddenly touched the crook of Wendy's elbow. Her eyes shot up to see Raf, worried and almost teary himself, looking up at her with wide eyes.

"Wendy, he's not worth it… don't." He pleaded, pulling at her arm. Wendy looked down at the bastard on the floor as the two other kids approached. Her heart pounded against her chest, her whole body shook, and every cell in her being wanted to see him dead…

"I have lived my whole life in his shadow." Wendy whispered with quiet dread. "All I want is freedom from everything that happened. Everything I've done."

"Can't escape guilt, ya little harlot –"

A foot suddenly hit his face, sending him howling. "Shut your trap!" Miko declared, glaring down at him.

"Wendy," Jack approached her other side. "I know this guy's hurt you a lot, but if you really want to escape him, you have to get rid of his hold on you. And if you kill him… your admitting he has power over you. Let him go… and he can't control you anymore. He can't make you afraid."

Slowly, surely, Wendy lowered the shotgun and stepped away. But she muttered, "I'm keeping this," as she glared down at her father. Both Raf and Jack stayed near her, hands on her arms to support her weakening frame, as they began stepping away.

Miko glared at the man one last time. "I've got my eyes on you." She whispered before she ran after them.

Just as they left, turning their backs on him to go out the door, Quentin scowled and reached for one of the discarded weapons nearby. But just as his fingers brushed cold steel, a looming shadow came over him. Bumblebee stood in the doorway, two cannons aimed at the man. Even if he couldn't speak, the human got the message. His hand stilled.

"I'm – I'm sorry –" Wendy began, but the kids interrupted her.

"Later. We need to get out of here," Jack muttered as they stepped out into the outside world, and chaos.

Night had fallen, and the darkness was being lit by explosions and gunfire. The human soldiers of MECH were firing at Knock Out, Breakdown, Arcee, and Bulkhead, but the bigger problem seemed to be the monstrous mechanical beast MECH had built. It was taken a beating, but it was handing out just as much pain. Even teamed together, the Decepticons and Autobots were having trouble facing it.

Across the way, leaning against the wall of the building, a half conscious Optimus was being treated by Ratchet. Panicked and concerned, Wendy ripped herself free of her human friends and ran to him, ignoring their worried calls. She skimmed the edges of the fight until she slid to a halt by the bot, gasping for air.

"O – Optimus!" She fell to her knees by him, weak and unsteady, reaching up and placing a hand on one of his enormous fingers. It twitched beneath her touch. "I – I'm so sorry –"

"Oh, you're going to be sorry, don't you worry." Ratchet griped as he went about helping Optimus. "You're going to wish you'd never been born when I'm done with you –"

"Ratchet," Optimus admonished, sounding weak, but still with enough firmness in his tone to be taken seriously. Almost in tears, Wendy fell against his hand and began to sob.

"D – Don't you ever scare me like that again," She sobbed into his metallic skin; he moved beneath her, and she sat back up, letting him go. His hand came around her back and his fingers encircled her, made her warm and safe.

"That is what I should be saying to you," He murmured weakly, trying to smirk down at her.

"We'll all take turns yelling at each other later, but for now, stop talking so I can stabilize you and get you out of here!" The medic ordered frantically. Neither Optimus nor Wendy seemed to be paying him any mind.

It took a few minutes for Ratchet to finally consider Optimus safe to transport, and all the while the battle behind them raged on. Wendy could hear it, but she didn't think of it, forcing herself to focus on the bot she'd nearly lost. His warm "skin" against her grounded her, made it real that he was safe, he was okay. Held between his palm and his hip, Wendy leaned forward onto her arms, resting on him, while he pressed his hand reassuringly against her back.

"Up you get," Ratchet finally said, sliding his arms under Optimus' shoulder. It was then Wendy gave a quiet rasp,

"Optimus… I don't really think I can move anymore." She admitted quietly, and to her relief, his hand closed around her exhausted form, and pulled her up as Ratchet helped him stand.

Once he was standing, Optimus slowly pulled his hand up to his chest, cradling Wendy, as the woman gave into exhaustion and closed her eyes, promptly falling asleep.

* * *

><p>It seemed she was making a habit of waking up in hospital beds. She'd done it more in the past few months than she ever had her whole life. Groaning, the human tried to sit up, but two human hands pressed her back down.<p>

"Take it easy, Wendy," June murmured; blurry vision cleared to reveal her smiling face. "We almost lost you there."

"Lost me…?"

"You think hours of physical abuse, followed by pushing yourself beyond your limits, wasn't going to take its toll?" Ratchet's cranky voice echoed from across the room. Wendy and June turned to look at him. "You were a disaster when you arrived back here – foolish little…"

But Wendy wasn't hearing his tirade against her, no; her eyes had fallen on the other patient in the room. Optimus Prime was on a berth near her, strapped to all sorts of machines, "breathing" labored. Guilt and worry assaulted her all at once, and she lowered her eyes shamefully.

"Don't blame yourself." Ratchet's voice was surprisingly calmer now, almost soothing. "While you can take the total blame for the stupidity of running off without telling anyone, Optimus's injuries were entirely of his own choosing."

"I didn't think to tell a soul," She murmured into the white sheets. "I'm so used to being on my own… I didn't think to ask anyone for help."

"You're part of a team now, and team members help each other." The medic quipped, staring down at her as if trying to force her to accept it. "Get used to it."

The woman smiled up at him, and gave a weak nod. "Okay."

"Can we cease with the emotionless prattle?"

The voice surprised her, and Wendy turned to look at June with wide eyes. The nurse was smirking, and rolled her eyes. "We can always dump you outside, Knock Out." She muttered. The name made Wendy jump.

"The cons are in here?" She asked, baffled. Then she sat up, trying to lean forward and see around Optimus's berth. She couldn't, really, so she slowly stood and walked around it.

Knock Out was on a berth much like it, on the other side of him, and sitting on the floor nearby was Breakdown, seeming mostly unharmed.

"I would have left them to rot, but without them, we may have lost both of you." Ratchet admitted. "As soon as I stabilize their medic, we'll kick them out."

"The Autobots are such _gracious_ hosts," Knock Out quipped as Ratchet worked on fixing his arm. Apparently Ratchet had ceased being gentle because the red bot began to cry out. "Ai ai careful!" The Autobot merely smirked.

"Why would Decepticons come to Autobot aid, though?" This voice was one of the kids – turning, Wendy saw Jack, Miko, and Raf walking in. Raf had been the one to speak.

"None of your business – AI QUIT THAT!" Knock Out was interrupted by whatever Ratchet was doing so roughly, so Breakdown took over.

"We were kind of surprised too; Megatron told us it was to 'repay a debt'."

Wendy's eyes widened knowingly, and she turned to see Jack's expression appeared much the same way. "Well, whaddya know."

"Care to explain?"

Ratchet quirked a metal eyebrow – and Optimus leaned up a bit to look down at Wendy, but as soon as he did, Ratchet jumped at him. "Ay ay ay - back down you go," A gentle hand pressed against Optimus's shoulder, pushing him back down against the berth.

Wendy took the chance to try and escape while the doctor was distracted, but in her haste, she'd forgotten about the nurse.

"Where do you think you're going?" Jack's mom put her hands on her hips, standing in Wendy's way. The woman gave a soft moan of displeasure as she was lead back to bed.

* * *

><p>Wendy and Optimus were in the "hospital" for much longer than Knock Out; and when the Decepticon was healed, the Autobots set about sending them to a distant, random location through the ground bridge, so they couldn't know the true location of the base. Wendy found, to her surprise, she might just miss the stuck up red car and his rather quiet partner; Knock Out was witty and always verbally dueling with Ratchet, and Breakdown was actually kind of nice when Bulkhead wasn't around. When the day came to bid them a "fond" farewell, Knock Out came to the ward to give Ratchet a few last quips.<p>

"I'd better be going – it's going to take a while to fix all the mistakes you made," The 'con's medic jabbed, as Ratchet sneered and ignored him, continuing to work on Optimus. "But I'll admit: for an old, outdated model you at least have enough memory chips to know which tools are used where."

The medic lifted the tool in his hand, brandishing it like a weapon as he growled at the other. "I have more medical knowledge in my smallest digit than you have in your whole processor!"

At that point, Optimus put a hand on his friend's shoulder, as if telling him to calm down. Though he listened, Ratchet continued to grumble as he turned and went to his computer. Optimus turned slowly towards Knock Out.

"Though I may not know your reasons, I thank you for coming to our aid. We would have perished without your assistance."

Breakdown, who had been standing quietly behind his partner, grunted. "Consider us even for my rescue." The bulky mech said. Optimus nodded.

"What about me?" Knock Out's dramatic voice interrupted them. "I had no such rescue – which means you are in debt to me." The mech smirked, but the smirk dropped in surprise when Optimus spoke.

"I suppose you are correct."

"I – I am?" He must not have thought Optimus would agree; he really didn't know Optimus very well. The Prime nodded. "Then… then I have a favor to ask."

A bit of suspicion appeared on Optimus face – he lifted an eyebrow, optics narrowing. "What would that be?"

Wendy watched the whole display quietly, but now she narrowed her eyes, glancing back and forth between the players. Knock Out took a step forward, somewhat… nervously? His optics lowered, and when he looked back up, the usual confidence he always displayed seemed… less.

He's not doin' what I think he's doin'… is he?

"Turn off your optics." The mech muttered. Surprise lit Optimus's face – and Ratchet turned around, confused and glaring at the other. But Optimus listened.

In all of a split second, Knock Out crossed the room and pressed his "lips' against Optimus' own. Wendy's jaw dropped – Ratchet gave a shout and the metallic clang of tools hitting the floor told he'd lost control of his motor functions. The kiss was very brief – for a second, they were touching, and then Knock Out jumped back, a completely too smug and pleased grin on his face.

"Consider us even," He said, turning and sauntering from the room like a predator who'd just caught their prey. Both Optimus and Ratchet were staring after him with completely dumbstruck looks on their faces – and though she was burning with displeasure from what had just happened - Wendy couldn't help but laugh at the looks on their faces. And was Optimus… blushing! His cheek plates were purplish. Wendy's laughter grew; but when Breakdown turned to leave and follow his partner, Wendy turned to him.

"B – Breakdown," Swallowing her giggles, Wendy approached the mech. The blue 'con paused and glanced at her. "Tell your partner to keep his hands – and everythin' else – to himself."

Smirking, Breakdown turned and walked away, leaving two stunned bots and a practically hysterical human behind him.

* * *

><p>The 'cons were sent out the gate into the wilderness of Canada.<p>

It took about an hour, but eventually the Nemesis arrived at their location, and sent an elevator down to greet them. Stepping into the light, Breakdown and Knock Out awaited the rising platform to take them to the ship. Knock Out seemed uncharacteristically… pleased. Almost beaming, a smirking stretched across his face, as if he were about to have fun ripping some poor thing to pieces.

Breakdown saw this and rolled his eyes. "Y'know, I think that humans got a better chance than you'll ever have,"

"Don't try and ruin my mood, Breakdown," Knock Out quipped, still beaming. "Nothing will bring me down today."

Of course, an irritated Megatron was enough to bring anyone down.

"YOU WERE INSIDE THE AUTOBOT BASE FOR _DAYS_, AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN DISCOVER ITS _LOCATION_!"

* * *

><p>The whole group – even Fowler and Jack's mom – were gathered in the med bay. All eyes were on her. Wendy met their gazes, didn't look down in embarrassment or shame, but she looked rather uncomfortable, twitching every so often and frowning. After the medic finished his routine check over of the Prime, and June had decided Wendy was doing fine for the moment, that was when the room grew amazingly tense and quiet. Wendy saw all the narrowed gazes and knew it was time to fess up.<p>

"I am so sorry," She whispered quietly, now unable to keep their gazes, burning shame rising up her throat. "If I had known – I never meant to drag y'all into my mess."

"What are friends for?" Jack asked, giving a light smirk.

"We totally would've helped you kick your dad's butt if you'd told us!" Miko proclaimed passionately, stomping her feet. "He's a total jerk!"

A light smile crossed her face for a moment, before it fell. Wendy gave a shrug. "For years the only thing standing between my father and me was my mother. Once she died… there was nothing. From the time I was eight until I was seventeen, I was his prisoner. It's hard… adjusting after that. When I think of my pa… it's like everythin' goes back to the way it was. Just me, and him, and no one in the world to help me."

A hand grabbed hers, held it tightly. Wendy smiled at Raf, who looked very somber, but was trying his best to smile supportively. A grin came to the woman's face as she leaned over, put her arms under his shoulders, and pulled him up onto the bed, giving him a big hug. "I am so sorry for what I said – I did it to –"

"Help us, we know," The boy beamed up at her, relieved to see she was back to normal.

"Help goes both ways, you know," June began, crossing her arms. "You've got to let your friends help you, sometimes."

"If I ever see that guy…" Bulkhead added helpfully. "I'll squish him!" He stomped his foot for good measure, and though Optimus frowned at the display, he didn't comment on it. The leader turned his kind eyes on her, still sore and exhausted, but making an effort to sit up and address her. Ratchet didn't immediately force him to lie down, but he was certainly twitching while he watched Optimus move, ready to jump in the very moment his patient over exerted himself.

"I must admit, I am – disappointed." The tone wasn't too dark and dismal, but was lower than usual and the words stung. Wendy tried to hide her wince. "I had hoped that we had become close enough to one another to call on each other for help. It seems that I –" His speech was interrupted by a hiss; Ratchet was on him in a hurry, but Optimus held up his hand. "That I have failed you. I am disappointed in myself, for not being there for you, when you needed me."

Everyone in the room, other than Optimus and Wendy, suddenly felt very much like a third wheel.

"Optimus, I didn't even give you the chance to back me up. I ran off – tricked Bumblebee, took off without telling anyone, got caught by the enemy and used as bait to hurt y'all! You should be disappointed in me!"

"I am." The truth in that hurt a bit – but she'd admit she deserved it. "But now that I know the circumstances, I – understand. I do not approve – but I understand why you took these actions."

Wendy felt guilt tugging at her again; her eyes left Optimus and she looked at Bee. "I'm really sorry about that, Bumblebee." He gave a few chirps and beeps, not sounding too happy or sad, and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

"Bee says he just feels bad he fell for it," Raf explained, still seated on the bed beside her.

"From now on, we stick together," Miko proclaimed, punching her fist into the palm of her other hand. "No more solo missions. Right?" She looked around the room for agreement, before her eyes landed on Wendy. With a sheepish smile she nodded.

"Right,"

"Uh, Wendy?" That was Jack's voice. He looked a little nervous as he stepped forward, eyes darting back and forth. "I don't wanna pry, but… what did that guy mean when he was talking about the shotgun?"

Confused, Wendy narrowed her eyes. "What part about it?"

"I think he said that – if you shot him with it, then…" Growing more nervous, Jack shrugged and continued. "Then both your parents would have been killed by the same gun."

A sick and churning feeling filled Wendy's gut at those words. Surprised faces filled the room; Fowler crossed the room to her.

"Wendy – did that bastard shoot your mother?"

"I don't want to talk about it," She whispered, looking down to the bed. Raf's hold on her hand grew tighter. Fowler gave a curse.

"That son of a bitch!"

"I thought her mom was sick," Miko whispered across the room, but not quietly enough.

"I guess she was afraid to explain,"

"New subject! Please," Wendy shouted suddenly, fists clenching the sheets.

"I think it's time this 'meeting' came to an end," The medic suddenly decided. "If you're not relegated to a bed or if you're not Ms. Darby, take a hike!"

"Hope you feel better," Raf muttered as he stood back on the floor – Wendy did her best to smile at him, and, for the first time that night, Raf managed a smile of his own. It made her heart lift just a bit.

Eventually, the four were all that remained. June came over and gave her another once over, before sighing and addressing her patient. "It looks like all we can do now is wait it out. It'll take time – but you'll be on your feet again eventually."

"Thanks for your help, June. Sorry to be such a bother,"

"Not at all," June smiled, before looking up at Optimus and Ratchet. "Good night Ratchet, Optimus," Wendy ignored the flare of anger she felt when June said 'Optimus', choosing instead to close her eyes and focus on calming down. Emotionally and physically drained, she fell asleep in no time.

* * *

><p>When next she awoke, the med bay was dark – the only illumination came from the machines which monitored Optimus, the brightness reflecting his good health<em>. Thank you Jesus<em>, Wendy thought, mirroring her mother's favorite saying. Slowly she sat up, breathing heavily with each spasm of pain which hit her, muscles and limbs shaking as she did. Luckily she was pretty well drugged up, so while it did hurt a bit, it was nothing compared to what it might have been.

"Wendy,"

The voice gave her a start, but at the same time, filled her whole being with a lightness of spirit and a childlike joy she only ever felt in his presence, or when thinking of him. Turning her head, Wendy looked up to Optimus's berth; she couldn't see but the outline of his side as he lay down, but she smiled at him.

"What's up, big guy?"

A light, but tired chuckle came from him. "It's good to hear you say that," The leader whispered. "For a time… I thought I might not hear it again."

The morbid – and yet very true – train of thought he had made her previous elation dim, the pains and sorrows of the days before returning. "I thought the same about you, y'know, - when you turned yourself over to them, - I was terrified."

"Perhaps; but according to what I've been told, I have you to thank for my life," Optimus paused, and the sound of moving metal came to her. The bright lights of his optics appeared above. "Once again, your bravery has been a blessing. I am still online thanks to you."

"Ditto, big guy," She admitted. "If you hadn't done what you did… well, I wouldn't be dead. I'd still be his prisoner – livin' day in and out at his mercy. An' that's a fate worse than death."

The bright blue stars above her narrowed, and when he spoke again, Optimus sounded outright furious. "If I ever meet this father of yours, he will live to regret everything he ever did to you."

Something inside her warmed at his words, a smirk coming to her face. She still wasn't used to having someone on her side, but Wendy decided she liked the feeling. The two fell silent for a while – Wendy stared up at the distant ceiling, pondering nothing in particular, until his voice caught her attention.

"Megatron was once my friend."

The sudden abruptness, not to mention the ludicrous-ness, of that statement made Wendy's jaw drop. Confused, curious, unsure of what to think or say, the woman awaited his words.

"He was a revolutionary, fighting for the idea of a free, casteless Cybertron. His words, his beliefs – I was entranced by them." The mech paused, gave a heavy sigh, one so heavy it seemed the world must rest on his shoulders.

Wendy began pulling the needles from her body – slowly, gently – and once she was free, clambered out of bed and to the foot of his berth. Examining it, she began looking for a way to climb up the leg. Optimus noticed, sitting up. "Wendy?"

After trying to find a way, and not seeing one, Wendy gave a sigh and smiled sheepishly at him. "I, uh… kinda need some help here." Smiling back, Optimus reached a hand down to her. She grabbed hold of his fingers, pulled up, and hung on as he delicately carried her up to his level. Once there, she crawled off his palm, onto his chest, careful to avoid his wounds. She took a seat on the left side of his upper torso, patiently awaiting the rest of his story.

Optimus seemed surprised at first at her choice to come to him, but smiled. Hesitant eyes narrowed, glanced down. Wendy grew concerned, stretching a hand out to brush against his skin comfortingly. It was still a long while before he began again, but when he did, he didn't stop until he'd reached the end.

"I used to be a data clerk on Cybertron…"

* * *

><p>Into the early hours of the morning the two conversed, with Wendy playing the role of listener for the most part, a definite switch from earlier conversations. That night the woman learned more about her friend than she had in all the months they'd known each other; she realized how much pain, and suffering, and insecurity he carried within that he never shared with anyone. In those rare moments when his optics darkened and he loosened the mask he wore around others, Wendy saw a side of Optimus scant few had ever known.<p>

Now she saw both him – and Megatron – in a very different light.

When next she knew Wendy found herself waking up; warm metal under her, surprisingly comfortable and nice to lie upon. Confused, she realized she must've fallen asleep on Optimus at some point… and the thought made her blush for reasons she couldn't think of. Slowly she sat up, looking around, until her eyes fell upon the bot's face.

He was still asleep – recharging, actually – and it was… a sight she'd couldn't believe. Relaxed, at peace, free of the sternness of being leader, the worry of his duties, the burden of his life. Without a close look one might not believe it, but the metal of the Cybertronians was amazingly human –like. It wasn't stiff, unbending, emotionless, no; Optimus's face was almost human like in its smoothness, the relaxation of the 'muscles' making him appear much younger. Lips partially open in an almost innocent fashion, head turned slightly sideways, body lifting up and down in the rhythm of rest, Optimus was… was…

… beautiful.

The blush on her cheeks grew a thousand times as Wendy's hand flew to her mouth. She hadn't just thought that – no. Definitely not. Optimus was a friend, and you weren't supposed to think friends were beautiful. Well, you were supposed to be supportive and compliment them and all that, but not actually be attract – a… attra…

She was attracted to Optimus Prime.

A little squeak escaped her, her other hand joining its partner on her mouth. This couldn't be happening – couldn't be! But slowly she realized it already was. The clues were there in their interactions, in her thoughts and feelings – oh, god, she'd been feeling this way for months, but just hadn't realized it!

_Oh no, no, no, no…_

And with this realization came a sinking, horrid feeling of coldness which seeped into every bone in her body. The blush fell – her hands slowly returned to her sides. Sight still trained on Optimus's handsome face, Wendy felt her eyes burn with tears.

And to think, she'd thought Knock Out was doomed, not even realizing she'd been jealous and acting protectively of the bot who'd unwittingly stolen her heart. Knock Out had a better chance than she did.

"I've got a snowball's chance in hell," She whispered darkly. Finally she couldn't take looking at him anymore and lowered her eyes, the tears escaping finally.

What now? Where could she go from here?

What were you supposed to do when you realized you were in love with Optimus Prime?


	6. Discovered

_The bang of the shotgun…_

_Acidic… smoky…_

_Running – running through knee high grass… a child's laughter…_

_A little river… a white mouth rising up –_

"_GWENDOLYN!"_

_BANG._

….

Wendy awoke slowly, groggily, drifting up from the sea of dreams with her usual melancholy angst. It was the same dream as ever. The same one which haunted her dreams every so often, sometimes nightly. Groaning, she glanced up with half open, weary eyes to see the clock, realizing it was much too early to be awake.

Placing a hand on her chest, she realized it didn't matter how early in the morning it was, she'd never be able to go back to sleep after that.

* * *

><p>Something was up in the Autobot base. There was a charge in the air – something floating about unsaid, making the mood tenser, which put both humans and bots on edge. Something was up, and the only one who didn't seem to realize it (or know what it was about) was Optimus Prime.<p>

All his subordinates were walking on egg shells around him, ever since he got out of the med bay. At first, the bot had thought they had been worried about his safety, but it persisted long after he'd recovered. The humans were doing it, too: watching him when they thought he wasn't looking; acting jumpy and speaking irrationally when addressed; acting nervous and jittery whenever he was around.

It was baffling, and for the spark of him he couldn't figure out why it was so; but the worst part was that, whatever it was, it was affecting Wendy, too.

"Good morning, Wendy," He called to her one day, when the command center was occupied only by himself, Ratchet, and said woman – she didn't hear him on the first call, or the second, seemingly lost in some thought, head turned to the ground. On the third call, she jumped, eyes shooting up to the bot, widening.

"Oh, uh – hey, boss, I uh – I didn't see ya there," She glanced away, blushing, while Optimus stared ludicrously. Didn't see him? For someone of his size, that would be rather difficult.

"Are you feeling well?" Her blood pressure was rising, her face flushing, and sweat seemed to be pouring off her skin. "You seem upset…" She frowned and jumped back, shaking her hands in a negative gesture.

"Fine – Fine – just, uh – tired. Didn't sleep much. In fact, think I'll take a bit of a nap. See ya boss, Ratchet!" With that she spun on her heel and vanished out of the room faster than Miko would disappear when offered a chance to find trouble. Confused, the big bot quirked an eyebrow, before glancing at his friend.

"Was it something I said?"

Ratchet merely burst into laughter, shaking his head. "Oh, you have no idea."

* * *

><p>Something was up in the Autobot base – and Arcee didn't like it.<p>

She had a "sixth sense" for that sort of thing, or at least, that was what Jack called it. She could tell when the shit was about to hit the fan (another phrase Jack had taught her), and she had a feeling it was about to happen. Soon.

Why did she feel this way? Easy: because Optimus Prime was in a funk, and if the big guy was feeling down, everybody else would be in for it, too. Not because Optimus would shove his bad mood onto everyone – that was Ratchet's forte – but because what affected Optimus, affected his team in a big way. As for what was bothering him, that was easy to tell, too; the strange and often violent mood swings of his close human friend, Wendy.

Friend. Hah. Arcee smirked at her own joke and shook her head. Wendy and Optimus were both in denial, which was, of course, the source of the problem. A problem that really needed to be solved, and soon, before everybody went crazy.

And Arcee had just the idea…

* * *

><p>Arcee was up to something, and the humans could tell. Being constantly up to something themselves, they'd become very adept at noticing the signs in others. So they cornered the bot, as best a trio of three small humans could, and forced her to spill the beans.<p>

"Whatever it is, we want in!" Miko declared cheerfully from the center of the triad.

"What's going on?" Jack asked afterwards.

"Does it have something to do with Optimus and Wendy?" The youngest questioned. Arcee gave a snort.

"They're pretty obvious, aren't they?" The femme looked up across the room, where both subjects of their conversation could be seen. Optimus was working at the computer with Ratchet, while Wendy was trying to pretend to read the newspaper, glancing up at Optimus every few seconds or so. Optimus would glance at her periodically, and she'd snap her gaze down, and he'd glance away. Repeat.

"Obvious to everyone but themselves." Miko muttered and crossed her arms.

"That's the thing – I mean, it's just –" Jack brushed the back of his head with his hand. "I mean – you guys, and us, we're – we're different."

"This wouldn't be the first time a Cybertronian has fallen for a member of another species. Remember, our race has been traveling the galaxy longer than yours has existed." As she knelt to their level, she tried to gently correct whatever stigmas they might have had against the budding romance. "For us, loving someone of another race isn't uncommon… it can be difficult, but it's been done."

"What about Wendy?" Wondered Raf, frowning in thought. "I have a feeling she doesn't want Optimus to know. Do you think she thinks it's not possible?"

It was Arcee's turn to frown. "Why would she think that?"

"Duh! You're big robots, we're humans!" Miko shouted a bit loudly, drawing attention to the group. She winced and turned her voice down. "Sorry."

"What she means is… it's a little hard for us to imagine, well… Wendy might like Optimus, but she probably thinks it's unreciprocated or it's impossible." Jack's eyes went back to her, and the gazes of the others followed. "She probably feels… pretty down about now."

Smirking, Arcee looked back to the kids. "We should enlighten her, right?"

The three beamed and nodded. "Right."

* * *

><p>Ratchet knew exactly what was going on – he just didn't quite know how it was going to turn out.<p>

There were a few ways it could go. He knew the both of them had feelings for the other, but not how they felt about actually exploring those feelings. One of the two could be against the idea; Optimus had never been particularly romantic, especially with the war going on. Whatever bit of romance he'd had before being Prime had shriveled up with his promotion. He might have feelings for Wendy, but could easily try and stifle them in a misplaced sense of protecting Wendy, or trying to keep uninvolved because he was Prime.

Wendy might not be open to the idea of such a relationship, but somehow, he doubted that. There was too much hope in her eyes for that, not to mention the way she'd follow him around like a love sick puppy. More likely, she felt Optimus would not be open to the idea. Which led back to whether or not the Prime would be willing…

Whatever happened, they couldn't keep avoiding the issue, oh no. He wouldn't let that happen. It would eventually explode and cause more problems than it might already, and Ratchet wasn't going to clean that mess up. Not to mention – Prime had been alone for far long enough. No, Ratchet wasn't going to let them flounder about in the dark.

Not for long, anyway…

* * *

><p>"How's it look, doc?"<p>

Ratchet quirked a metal eyebrow at Wendy, then released a heavy sigh. "You seem to be fully functional, though I would like Ms. Darby to take another look when she is here next. Just to be careful." He clarified, and Wendy shrugged.

"Sure thing, Ratch." She stood up on the Transformer-sized table, then gestured to the floor. "An assist, if ya don't mind?"

He was about to help, when the med bay doors opened and both turned to see Optimus striding in.

"You wished to…" The bot looked at Ratchet first, but when he realized Wendy was in the room, both his speech and his pace slowed. "… see me?"

Wendy tried to smile and ignore the drumming of her heart, not hearing Ratchet's reply. "Yes, I want to make sure you're still on the path to recovery." He then turned to his table, clearly about to grab something, when his hand stilled midair. "Hmm…"

Neither Wendy nor Optimus noticed this. As soon as the medic turned around, the bot glanced to his human friend. She stuffed her hands in her pockets, rocked back and forth on her heels, before nodding at him. "Mornin'." The bot seemed to jump at her words, which was funny, since it was hard to take the Prime by surprise.

"Um, yes. Good morning." If Wendy noticed Optimus' strangely nervous speech, she didn't show it. "You are faring well, I hope?"

She gave another nod. "Ratch says I'm fine."

"Slag it all!"

Both jumped at the proclamation. "You all right there?" Wendy asked the medic.

"I've misplaced something important – stay here, I will return shortly." Ratchet spun on his heel and practically raced from the room before either Wendy or Optimus could say a word. The human looked devastated, torturously nerve wracked, reaching out for Ratchet like she could stop him from leaving. But, as it was, she was trapped ten feet in the air, and now Optimus was her only escape. Color rushed to her face as the Med bay doors closed, trapping her with him… alone.

Optimus stared at the direction his friend had run towards for a moment, before slowly turning to Wendy. He seemed devastated, too, surprisingly – optics narrowed, mouth pulled taut, bit shoulders slightly hunched. Wendy noticed and frowned, wondering what was up. "Feelin' all right?" She asked.

The bot jumped again – which struck her as very out of character. "Yes, I am well." He spat out quickly, straightening his posture. "I hope Ratchet confirms that."

Wendy gave a soft smile. "Me too. You uh," She glanced down, shuffling her feet, and if Optimus were human he might've realized just how characteristic that motion was of nervousness. "Really gave us a scare, there."

Smiling in return, Optimus moved to sit on the berth. "You as well."

The woman chuckled in response. "Yeah, sorry again for that mess. Promise I've learned my lesson."

"You'd better have." The bot gave a light grin. "Next time, I'll have to punish you for such a thing."

"A – Ah." Wendy's color darkened considerably at those words, said in Optimus's powerful voice, as images she really didn't need popping up currently came to mind. Optimus noticed and became concerned.

"All you sure you're all right? He questioned, leaning down over her, his face coming closer. That did not help the predicament. "Your temperature has spiked – perhaps Ratchet missed something –"

"N – No, really! I'm fine!" She insisted, holding her hands up and backing up. "J – Just dandy."

Optimus quirked an eyebrow, obviously suspicious, when suddenly the lights went out.

* * *

><p>It was not something one usually saw around the Autobot base. Ratchet was usually the sane one, but apparently, not anymore. Arcee smirked and crossed her arms, watching as the mech gave a giddy and somewhat eerie giggle, pulling at the wires in the wall he stood by.<p>

Jack approached, glancing between the two bots, before settling on Arcee. "What's he doing?"

She grinned at him, then looked to the medic. "Care to explain, Ratchet?"

"I am simply trying to ensure the mental stability of the bots – and humans – under my care," He gave a cheerful laugh as another bundle of wires came free. "That should do it!"

"Do what exactly?" The human asked.

"Shut down the electricity in the med bay, including the lights and the doors." Arcee clarified for him.

"Why?" Jack asked. "What's in the med bay?"

"Not 'what'," Ratchet began, spinning around with a big grin. "But 'who'."

* * *

><p>"Holy -!"<p>

"Wendy? Are you all right?"

"Just fine, not counting the fact I can't see for shit."

"Continue speaking, if you would."

Confused, the woman shrugged and did as told. "Sure, though I don't know why – ACK!"

"Sorry!" Optimus gave a startled cry and drew his hand back a little.

"It's all right – just surprised me." The woman rubbed her arm where Optimus's hand had nudged her just a little too hard. "Try again."

This time he was much gentler, wrapping his fingers around her gently before standing back and returning to the berth. As he sat down, all Wendy could see was his bright optics, shining in the darkness. It was breathtaking how beautiful they truly were.

"I wonder what happened in the base that would lead to this." Wendy snapped out of her daze.

"Wanna go find out?"

"I'm afraid we cannot." She couldn't see him shake his head, but she could hear it. "The electricity powers the doors as well, and I would prefer not to dismantle Ratchet's office if necessary."

"Oh. Right." Flushing for a new reason, Wendy stood in Optimus's palm, placing her hand against what she thought must be his torso. Slowly she began to move.

"Wendy?"

"Just – tryin' to get comfortable, - if that's all right?" She continued to move downwards, letting her hands grip his firm form. What she didn't realize was where her hands were falling – into the little grooves and narrow gaps in his frame. Those places held tender, sensitive wiring, which her fingers kept brushing against.

"O – Oh! Of course!" He gasped, still as a board, trying not to let on to what she was doing, and just how intimate it was. Optimus was giving a splendid demonstration of the Cybertronian versions of embarrassment and nervousness.

After what felt like an eternity for poor Optimus, Wendy was sitting on his thigh, legs crossed, elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. "So now we wait."

"Y – Yes." He gave a soft sigh, trying to shake off the pleasure rushing through his circuits. Wendy sent a curious glance his way.

"Sure you're not in need of some help? You don't sound good."

"I'm fine." He insisted quickly, glad she could barely see a thing. But she did notice just how wide his bright optics had gotten.

"If you say so… though if you're feeling tired or unwell, you could take a nap or somethin'." The woman grinned deviously. "Promise I won't take advantage or anythin' while you're asleep."

The choice of words – and knowing what they could mean in her language – sent Optimus spiraling back into embarrassment. "No, really, I – I am fine."

Wendy, on the other hand, took in the sudden tightness in his voice, and realized the implications of her joke. Color rushed to her face and she gave a quiet groan, realizing she'd probably made Optimus uncomfortable. "Uh – Sorry, I was just –"

"No, it's fine – I just –"

"I only meant –"

"I know you didn't –"

They both stopped suddenly, realizing they were tripping over meaningless words, and after a bit of a pause both let go of nervous laughs. "Take a rest, Optimus." She finally said. "While we've got the time."

He smiled in return, though she could not see it. "If you insist."

* * *

><p>"So? What are they doing?"<p>

Miko's exuberant cry was answered with a dry sigh from the medic. He was leaning over a radio, which connected to a similar one he'd purposefully left in the med bay – one that ran on batteries. "They're being purposefully obtuse, I swear to Primus!" The mech cried. "They're showing just how dense they can be!"

"No progress then." Arcee muttered, as all three humans sighed as one. At that moment Bulkhead approached, seeing the congregation, his optics dancing about.

"What's going on? And where are Optimus and Wendy?"

Arcee grunted. "Speaking of 'dense'…" Ratchet ignored them, clenching his fists with a determined look.

"This isn't over!"

* * *

><p>It had been a very strange week for Wendy.<p>

She had a feeling her friends had it in for her, though why, she couldn't say. Odd things kept happening where she was concerned, including being locked in the med bay with Optimus, quickly followed by being assigned to patrol duty with Optimus for a week (apparently Ratchet blamed Optimus for the black out for some reason, and demanded he be punished with a week's worth of patrol. Optimus, being himself, placated his angry medic friend by agreeing). Why she had to go with him each time was beyond her, but she wasn't up to fighting the medic.

That wasn't the end of it. The humans kept asking her odd questions about personal things: her love life (it was nonexistent); did she have any past relationships (none whatsoever); had she ever been… 'with' somebody (she'd fooled around a little, but she didn't tell Miko that, the nosy brat!); whether she had any feelings for anybody (she said no); what her 'type' was (said she didn't know if she had a type at all).

They were _insatiable_.

Worst of all, it seemed as if they were all talking about her whenever she wasn't around. When she entered a room, she'd find a group of her friends gathered, whispering, but as soon as they noticed her they'd shut up and walk away. Something was definitely up.

Which lead to her staring at the puppy dog eyes looking up at her outside her room.

"No thanks, kid,"

"Come on, Wendy! One round! Please?" Miko begged, throwing her arms down with a pouty look. It was hard to resist.

"Sorry, but board games aren't my thing. We don't even have enough people for it! Doesn't Pictionary take eight people?" Putting a hand on her hip, Wendy cocked an eyebrow. "We've only got four. Two teams will be kind of boring."

"But we do have eight people!" The girl beamed. Confused, Wendy crossed her arms in front of her.

"How so?"

Miko put out a hand and began counting down on her fingers. "Me and Bulkhead, Raf and Bumblebee, Jack and Arcee, and you and Optimus!"

Stunned was putting it lightly. Wendy's mouth dropped open, then closed, then opened again, as if she were trying to think of something to say and could come up with nothing. She vaguely resembled a fish. "… are they actually gonna play?"

Rolling her eyes, Miko grabbed Wendy's arm and began dragging her away. "Of course they are! Stop complaining and come play!"

Without any reason to back out – and flustered by the mere mention of her 'friend' – Wendy allowed herself to be pulled by the younger girl, silently cursing her luck. Part of her still believed it would fall through; surely the Autobots had better things to do than play games? But sure enough, the four bots in question were sitting in the center of the command room when they got there, with Raf and Jack close by.

"You can't be serious…" The ex-trucker mumbled quietly, her stomach dropping. Miko dragged her to her partner, gave a little giggle, then scampered off towards Bulkhead. Wendy's gut dropped even further, as weird wiggling sensations wracked her nervous form_. This'll be fucking_ fan- _tastic_…

"Do they even know how to play?"

"Raf taught us while Miko was searching for you." Arcee happily explained, and Wendy felt her hopes of escape begin to finally fade. Resigning herself to the situation, she got comfortable beside her partner – but not too comfortable. She glanced up at him.

"I'm kinda surprised you're playing…" She admitted. In fact, he looked a little gruff and put out too.

"I had no choice," He griped, nodding towards the back corner. Glancing around him, Wendy saw Ratchet hard at work.

"Oh, well –" Shrugging, Wendy turned back to Optimus. "Sorry you're bein' bothered…"

The bot's face changed quickly, from irritation to alarm. "I did not mean to imply I do not wish to play with you Wendy – err, that is – to play with all of you – I simply – I have much I –"

Wendy gave a laugh at his distressed manner. "It's fine, boss, I get it. I think it's good you're relaxing for a change."

His embarrassment faded only slightly, but he gave a nod and turned to Miko. "Shall we begin?"

* * *

><p>Playing Pictionary with giant robots was very odd.<p>

For one, most of the things that were to be drawn were so very entrenched in human culture that the Transformers had no idea how to go about drawing them. They had the internet for help – but that was no use when one of their human partners was drawing something very human oriented that they couldn't understand. Watching Miko try to get Bulkhead to guess "Santa Claus" was more than amusing. He did get it, eventually – after a few odd guesses like "fat burglar" and "Christmas clown".

Surprisingly enough, Optimus and Wendy were winning.

With a big, beaming grin, Wendy rolled the dice another time; it had been their turn for two rolls in a row, because they kept getting the answers right.

"Remind me not to pair them up next time," Miko muttered (ironically, of course, because the whole point of the game was to make the two interact).

"Blame Optimus. He's a much better artist than I'd of thought." Wendy said, which made Optimus quirk an eyebrow at her.

"And why did you assume I would not be a good artist?" He pretended at irritation, but it was clear he was playing.

Cheekily, Wendy replied, "Cause you seem too stiff all the time to be very creative." A soft tap on the back of her head from his finger made her laugh harder.

The others (including Ratchet, still secluded by his monitor) watched knowingly, each happily admiring the chemistry between the two, and wondering how long it would take to get the truth through their thick skulls. Meanwhile, the game moved on.

* * *

><p>Once a week, the Autobots would gather together for movie night. It wasn't a set time or day each week – the base was too chaotic and busy for such a set schedule. But as often as they could, the group would make time for a movie together. Ratchet and Optimus did not stay for these events, being too busy, but on this particular week, the group was insisting they join in.<p>

"Come on, you can take a break for two hours, right?" Miko begged of the leader. He was about to decline when surprisingly the medic agreed.

"It might be good for us to take some time off, Optimus." Ratchet mumbled, shrugging. It was the most out of character thing Optimus had ever seen his friend do. The Prime narrowed his optics; if he didn't know better, he'd say his friend was up to something…

"Wendy, are you going to join us?" Arcee asked, turning to look across the room where Wendy was walking in.

The woman was taken by surprise, blinking. "Join what?"

"Movie night," Jack declared, holding up the DVD in his hands. "You in?"

Shrugging, Wendy agreed. "Why not. I've got nuthin' better to do." Approaching the group, she climbed the stairs and took her place on a chair near the TV.

Optimus watched her join the group, his optics trailing her every step, until she seemed to notice, glancing up. Taken aback, Optimus wasn't quite sure what to do until the woman gave a small smile and waved. Her face turned red for some reason… and then she turned to look at the TV.

"Where's Raf?" Arcee piped up, noticing for the first time that the younger boy wasn't there.

"Got some family stuff apparently." Miko said with a dull tone that spoke of just how much she thought of family stuff.

"That's all right – I don't think we could watch this movie if he was here, anyway." The boy laughed sheepishly.

"Why?" Wendy asked. "What is it?"

The boy held up the case for her inspection. The title read: _Moulin Rouge_.

"And what is this about?" Ratchet grumbled, resigning himself to watching; even though he'd agreed, he still looked miffed.

Jack gave a small grin, as if telling a joke only he understood. "Above all things, this is a story about love."

Ratchet grumbled more. "Wonderful." Secretly, he believed it was a good thing – because a movie about love might just help some of the more dense members of the audience to realize what the feeling was like. The medic glanced at the human woman on the couch, then to his friend. He hoped something occurred to them.

Jack popped in the movie, took his seat, and the story began.

* * *

><p><em>We should be lovers!<em>

_We can't do that._

_We should be lovers! And that's a fact._

So far, Wendy was somewhat into the movie; it was pretty good, rather funny in places, and though the music was kind of getting on her nerves, she was enjoying herself. The two main characters were currently singing to each other of their dire predicament – how they were in love but couldn't be together because the woman was, essentially, a prostitute. _Oh, poor you_, Wendy grumbled mentally. _At least she's your frickin' species. _It seemed as though the woman thought it was hopeless, while the male was trying to convince her it would be worth it, no matter what happened.

_Though nothing would keep us together…_

_We could steal time just for one day._

_We could be heroes forever and ever –_

As the song went on and the two came closer, Wendy felt something strange. It was like an itch – a mental one – a thought that just wouldn't die down. As she heard the lyrics and saw what was occurring before her, the thought grew. The more the movie played, the more the thought progressed.

For a brief instant her eyes flitted to Optimus' – but then she quickly returned them to the TV.

On the story went, to new songs, almost all of which were about love.

_Come what may_

_Come what may_

_I will love you_

_Until my dying day_

It was the song which represented the character's love; that, no matter what had happened, they still loved each other. And a lot had happened – Wendy could easily see the whole thing was going to end tragically. It was obvious they were doomed, and here they were, still singing about how happy they were to be together.

_Storm clouds may gather_

_And stars may collide_

_But I Love You, I Love You,_

_Until the end of time_

It just miffed her that they were so naïve; that they really believed that just because they loved each other it was all okay. Love does not conquer all like in the stories. Oh no. Fuming inside, Wendy felt suddenly very uncomfortable, sitting there, watching the two star crossed lovers sing their hearts out.

The thought was growing stronger and stronger but she refused to think of it.

* * *

><p>Eventually the movie ended; most of the viewers seemed very enthralled, almost entranced by the story the movie had offered.<p>

"That – that was – it was so beautiful –" That, surprisingly, was Bulkhead, who seemed to be trying very hard not to cry. Miko rolled her eyes at him.

"Yeah, yeah, it was sad, come on big guy! Don't go soft on me!"

"It was very… inspirational." To most everyone's surprise, that was Optimus' voice. Shocked, Wendy looked up to see him contemplating the screen, a soft, thoughtful look on his face. "They knew… they knew all along they were testing fate… but they did not mind." At this Optimus lowered his face to look down, his eyes falling on her – almost as if he was talking only to her. "They were brave enough to enjoy what their love could give them… while they had it. And they did not live in fear of the moment they would lose it."

His optics, gentle, soothing, seemed to gaze into her soul and know everything. Wendy felt her heartbeat pick up. "Yeah… but they still suffered in the end. It was all for nothing."

The bot didn't miss a beat. His soft gaze remained trailed on her. "Was it?"

* * *

><p>Days passed and the movie was forgotten by most of the Autobots, but for one. Wendy, it seemed, had been in something of a funk since the night they'd seen it. She'd not been in an overly bad mood, nor had she been rude to anyone – she just seemed oddly irritated, distracted by some inner distress. One night this manifested in an inability to go to sleep that kept her awake until the early hours of the morning.<p>

Wendy had a big frown on her face, shoulders hunched, mood as low as her feet. She was grumbling as she walked from her bathroom into her room, moving straight to her bed in order to plop face down upon the comforter.

Eventually, her frowning face appeared again, nestled in her arms on top of her pillow. Eyes narrowed and lowered, brow furrowed and mouth taut, she was the perfect picture of "miserable". For a few minutes she remained this way, stewing in her misery, eyes wandering aimlessly about her room. Soon her gaze fell upon the desk across the way, and a thoughtful look came to her eyes. In an instant, she was up and across the room.

On her desk was a notebook; grabbing it, she nicked a pencil from the top of the desk, and took a seat in her desk chair. Instead of facing the flat surface, she was turned away from it, chest pressed against the back of the chair. The notebook was held in her outstretched hands, the pencil gripped between her teeth, as she glanced through the pages of what she'd written.

They were all poems, written weeks before, during a time when she'd been so bored she'd been willing to do anything to alleviate it. Eventually she'd deemed her poetry so horrendous she'd given it all up, but now she was looking over the old stanzas, eyes widening in thought.

Turning the chair slowly in a circle, she put the pencil on the desk, reading slowly. Eventually she flipped a page, then another, narrowing her eyes as she did.

"I've never been patriotic, but with you," She murmured, reading from one of the pages. "I've come to adore red and blue!" Flushing, the girl flipped to another page, shaking her head. "Damn. I really am horrible."

Flipping through page after page after page, hearting hammering faster with each flip, Wendy slowly came to realize what she'd only been suspicious of before: the fact that she'd fallen for _him_ much earlier than she'd realized, perhaps been in love for months before she'd even known it. And as she looked over her poetry with startled eyes, the woman let out a breathy gasp.

"I am a really bad poet," She muttered. With a sigh, she stood and stretched, leaving her room to take a walk and calm her head.

* * *

><p>…<p>

…

_Running… Running… a white mouth rising out of the water…_

"_GWENDOLYN!" _

Optimus Prime snapped out of recharge so fast his processor spun. Optimus slowly rose from recharge, haunted by the images he'd seen – almost like a 'nightmare', the humans would say. He was very used to such things. The level of stress that came with being Prime and fighting a war almost guaranteed him no sleep at all, let alone peaceful sleep. So the bot was no stranger to bad recharges, but that dream had been… different. Strange. He could understand having nightmares about Wendy's safety, but the voice calling her name hadn't even been his. It had been a woman's… a human woman's. And what in Cybertron was that white mouth?

Unable to tell, and unable to calm his thoughts enough to return to recharge, Optimus sighed and rose out of his berth. He crossed his rather Spartan living quarters and left the room, entering the quiet, dark hallway outside.

It was very strange to be in the base with the lights out, silence echoing against the metallic walls; it almost felt… wrong. The base was always so lively, full of cheerful voices and the commotion of the day. Now, it felt… 'eerie' was the word, Optimus thought. A word Wendy had taught him.

He'd learned a lot from the spirited human, that was for certain. As he walked down the hall, trying to quiet his booming footsteps as much as possible, he pondered the woman. She was constantly in his thoughts – around him all the time, usually – and now she'd found her way into his dreams.

Something about her just… stuck. Wendy had jumped into his life, forced her way through all the barriers he'd kept up for millennia, and refused to be cowed by, well… anything. She flowed with his mood swings, understood his stress and his work load, even faced 'cons head on with steady determination. The woman was nigh unstoppable. Physically, she was so fragile; one false step and she'd be crushed underfoot. But spiritually… nothing seemed to daunt her, despite everything she'd been through. Like a stalwart sentinel, she'd made it through life scarred and beaten, but not defeated.

Optimus had to admit he was blown away by the human more and more each day. It was impossible to predict what she'd do or say – and he found that refreshing. In many ways, she reminded him of Ratchet, in that both were blunt, to the point, and had no problem treating him like a normal bot despite his position. The two of them were like lifelines for his emotional state; whether they knew it or not, they helped him, made it possible for him to keep the masks up day to day, simply by allowing him to remove them in their presence.

But the human could get under his skin in a way Ratchet never had. He didn't find himself constantly thinking of Ratchet, or dreaming of him. He never found himself wondering about Ratchet's past, about his life, his dreams, his thoughts. He didn't seek Ratchet out quite as often as he did the human. He'd never shared his peaceful spot out in the desert with Ratchet. And he'd certainly never found himself vaguely attracted to Ratchet…

He'd admit it; he was… attracted to her. To her personality, her spirit, her drive. The way she made him feel… it was like Elita all over again.

Sighing, the bot shook his head and stopped his train of thought right there. There was no need to dwell on that – nothing would come of it. He'd learned a long time ago that remembering Elita hurt like a wound in the spark that would never heal… there was nothing he could do to alleviate it. Not even Wendy could do that.

Speaking of… as Optimus stepped into the command center, his optics widened to find the object of his thoughts sitting nearby, up on the human platform, legs dangling off the side and eyes darkened, staring listlessly away.

"Wendy?"

* * *

><p>The woman jumped at the sound of her name being called in that rumbling, toe curling baritone. Shivering, Wendy turned her head and found Optimus approaching. He face colored but she stood, clearing her throat nervously as he came forward.<p>

"Hey. Whatcha doin' up so late?" She asked, hands on her hips. "Do bots not need a full night's sleep?"

Optimus gave a light chuckle. "We recharge about as much as a human does – and like humans, we too can be kept from sleep by a restless mind."

Eyes softening in understanding, Wendy walked closer to him. "Wanna talk about it?"

The bot didn't speak or move at first, optics distant and distracted, but then he shook his head. "No, thank you. I do not think it would help."

"Okay." Shuffling her feet, Wendy tried to keep her embarrassment down, glancing away from him. "Wanna talk about somethin' else? Might distract you."

The bot looked down at her with soft optics, though she didn't see it – his eyes trailed her shuffling form, the stiff shoulders, downturned eyes. "May I ask what is keeping you up?"

Slowly she lifted her head. "I've got issues sleepin'. Sometimes I just can't." The woman finally looked at him. "Used to be I'd go outside and sleep in my semi when that happened, but seein' as I don't got one – I'm just stayin' up." She shrugged, lowering her eyes again. Dammit! She cursed in her mind. Keep avoiding his gaze and he's gonna catch on real quick! So she forced herself to look up.

To her surprise, he was no longer there. Eyes wide, she glanced around frantically – until her sight fell on a familiar semi sitting in the middle of the room. Blinking, she seemed confused, stiff, unsure of what to do, until the cab's side door opened.

With a smile, Wendy walked off the ramp, taking the steps two at a time until she came to the truck's side. "You don't have to do this, Optimus."

"No," He admitted. "I do not have to." The door stayed open.

A soft, amused sigh escaped her and she smiled as she climbed in. "Always the gentlebot." She whispered. True to her description, the seat she was in began to recline, and the heat switched on, filling the cab with a comfortable warmth. "You're a sweetheart."

"I owe you a great deal Wendy – and… since we are 'friends'… why should I not aid you this way?"

Grinning, Wendy gave a light laugh. "I think we're more than friends, Optimus." Suddenly the words she'd said sunk in and she jumped, panicky. "That is – I mean – it's just, y'know, - friends don't –"

"I understand." If Optimus was taking joy out of her embarrassment, he hid it well. "We have been through more together than most 'friends' ever have. Perhaps that is not a strong enough word."

"Hn. Maybe English doesn't have a strong enough word. I don't think 'best friend' would cut it, and that's all we've got." Sticking her hands behind her head, Wendy relaxed, trying to rid herself of her nerves. "Does your language have anything for it?"

"Hmmm." The question made him fall silent, as he likely thinking it through. As she awaited his response, Wendy found herself absentmindedly nuzzling the seat, trying to situate herself, while taking comfort in Optimus' "embrace". "Perhaps… we have something like a 'spark bond'."

"What's that?" Her voice sounded tired, weak, but she was listening.

"A spark bond can exist in many forms – between friends, family, lovers, and between any number of bots – but whatever the circumstances, a bond represents the deepest form of connection one can have with another." These words, curious to her, made Wendy open her eyes and look up again.

"What kind of bond do you mean?"

"It is… different for each bonded. But in most cases, it is a symbol of trust, devotion, kinship… those who bond only do it with those they truly care for and who care for them in return. It is no simple matter. A bond will connect the sparks of those involved – the "soul"."

Sitting up, Wendy found herself deeply intrigued, brow furrowing. "So… you share your soul with them?"

"Yes. And that bond will last for all time – even through death, it is said. Supposedly, when those who are bonded become one with the Allspark – "go to heaven", you might say – they are able to find one another through the bond."

"That… that sounds beautiful. Amazing." Elation flooded the human and made her smile. "I'm honored you would think of me in such a way, Optimus."

It was the bot's turn to sound embarrassed; Wendy laugh when she heard the little stammer in his usually powerful voice. "You – you are welcome, Wendy."

For a moment she laughed, before curiosity returned and she spoke again. "Have you ever bonded with someone, Optimus?"

"… no." Now his voice was heavy, laden with the weight of perhaps pain, or memory, or sorrow.

"Have you… never found someone?" The woman was reluctant to ask, but burning curiosity would not let the question go unasked. He didn't have to answer.

"Once, long ago… we were separated when our kind left Cybertron."

Sorrow filled her own heart, in sympathy for her friend. "Sorry, boss. I can't imagine what losing someone like that would feel like."

"It is not your fault." He might've been preparing to say more, but Wendy gave a sudden yawn, blinking violently. Chuckling, he said, "Go to sleep, Wendy."

Tired of fighting it, Wendy gave a nod and laid back down, arms under her head. "Night, boss." As she drifted off, half lost to sleep already, she missed hearing the almost whimsical, wanting tone in Optimus' voice.

"… good night, Wendy."

* * *

><p>That was how the others found them the next morning; Arcee, Ratchet, and Bulkhead all entered the command center to see both their commander and his human ally still resting, completely content with one another. Ratchet smiled, actually smiled at the sight.<p>

Arcee quietly leaned over and whispered, "You know… they might not need our help."

Ratchet gave a chuckle. "You might be right."

* * *

><p>Optimus awoke from recharge slowly, realizing two things; he was still in his truck mode, with Wendy resting in his cab; and the others were awake. Straining to lift the fog of sleep from his head, the bot found himself listening to their quiet conversation.<p>

"Maybe they're not as thick headed as we thought." Arcee muttered, walking carefully in a large circle around her boss, trying to let him sleep. "If they're doing stuff like this..."

"No, Optimus would be the kind to offer such a thing without meaning anything by it. And even if he did, Wendy would be too dense to realize the true meaning." Rolling his optics, Ratchet quietly approached his monitor and gave a sigh. "They may be getting closer... but I doubt either of them has yet realized they have feelings for the other."

Feelings for...? Optimus felt his spark clenched and grow hot, and he felt a little tenser than before. Did he... did he really have feelings for her? Feelings of that kind? The others seemed to think so... and he couldn't really debunk the idea. But wait... they had said 'each other'... did Wendy have feelings for him?

"Who do you think will figure it out first?"

"Knowing Optimus, he will take a while to actually realize he has feelings for her. Wendy, on the other hand, seems to know - and is trying to distance herself from them." Ratchet huffed. "She'd deny them her whole life if he let her."

"So... she won't make a move?" Arcee crossed her arms.

"Oh no," Chuckling, Ratchet shook his head. "No - Optimus would have to approach her. She would never admit to it- Optimus would have to pry the truth out of her, and she'd fight tooth and nail the whole way."

"Probably true. She's really stubborn."

Optimus listened to all of this with elation rising in his spark chamber. He wasn't even sure why... until this moment, he hadn't even realized that the idea of Wendy caring for him could make him so happy. Within his cab, said woman gave a light groan, adjusting her position, rubbing her face against the leather seat. His spark warmed at the gentle motion, and he found that yes, he did care for her.

And she... cared for him? That... that was... unbelievable. This merited more thought, the leader decided, realizing the complications of what this could mean. It wasn't something to jump into. He hadn't had a partner in so long... and would Wendy even want that? Only time - and communication - would tell.

One thing was for sure: Optimus wasn't going to let the woman hide in the dark. They were going to discuss this - whether she liked it or not.

* * *

><p><em>Sorry it took so long! College has kept me busy… I hope to get the next one up much sooner. We're getting closer to the good parts – when they finally realize how thick headed they're being. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews!<em>

_ I do have a question for you, readers: if sexual content came up in the story, would you prefer me to skip it, or write the scene?_

_If enough people want it, I can include it in the story and raise the rating, along with putting a warning before such scenes. But if a good many don't want it, and some others do, I can include the scenes in a separate story, like a "Sojourner: Side Stories" kind of thing. It's whatever you guys want – tell me your opinions._

_And so you know, by sexual content, I mean true sex. Not "oh it was so good and then they came" – I mean real life sex with all its mistakes and blunders. You can't imagine Wendy and Optimus being perfectly competent at it from the get go, can you? As for the "how"… we'll get to that. 83_

_Thanks for reading!_


	7. Arrival

_Just to give y'all fair warning: this is the point in the story where this series will go very AU. I'm sure that as TF Prime continues it will contradict me, but that's okay. This is set after episode 20, before 21, and goes onto an alternate timeline that will ignore the show's plot until it's developed a bit more. I will address episode 21 and beyond, but only after the series has gone forward some so I can plan it out._

_So… new characters! I think you guys will enjoy this one; I know veterans of TF certainly will. 83_

…

Wendy awoke to the sound of an alarm.

Jarring and terrifying, the screech had Wendy snapping up, hitting her head on something, which of course made her wince and cry out before falling back down. For a long, confusing, pain riddled moment, she had no idea where she was or how she'd gotten there. It took a moment for the hurt in her head to lessen, and her tired eyes to blink, for her to see she was in a familiar and safe place – Optimus' cab. The events of the night before rushed back, but before she could think on them long, she remembered the alarm.

"Optimus?" She called, hoping (and very rightly assuming) that if he hadn't been awake before, the alarm had certainly woken him. "Whas goin' on?" Her sleepy voice slurred. The door to her right swung open, and Wendy stepped out as quick as her half asleep body could.

Optimus transformed once she was on her feet, and approached the computer terminal that was making the blaring noise. Wendy took the time to look around and take in her surroundings – they were in the command center, and all the Autobots and the kids were present. Everyone looked worried, from Ratchet's stern and hard gaze, to Miko pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. Something was up.

"What's happened? Decepticons?" Wendy found her sleepiness fading fast in the face of what must be a catastrophe. "What's goin' on?"

"We've picked up the trace of a moving energon supply, but –" Ratchet grimaced, clearly displeased. "It is not accompanied with Cybertronian life signals."

"What's that mean?" Jack asked, approaching nervously. "Have the 'cons learned to hide it, or something?"

"Or something." Ratchet grumbled. Optimus had his optics narrowed, examining the screen carefully.

"There's no way we wouldn't pick up a 'Con signal." Arcee insisted, crossing her lithe arms. "If 'cons were there, we'd know."

"And that means…?" Raf looked from Bumblebee, to Ratchet, and all the eyes and optics in the room followed suit. But it was Optimus who spoke up.

"Cybertronians are not the ones moving this supply." The leader reasoned, his grim look darkening at the implications. Wendy made the realization and her jaw dropped.

"You mean… humans are doing this?" Bulkhead gave a sputter of laughter. "What for? They don't have any use for the stuff."

"Besides baiting Cybertronians such as ourselves to go after it?" Ratchet snapped back.

Bulkhead still didn't seem to be catching on. "But why would humans use Energon as bait for us?"

Turning, Optimus faced the group again, clear concern and worry written over his face in the way of narrow optics, a stern frown, and a lowered gaze. Wendy caught his look and mirrored it with her own hard, determined stare.

"I can hazard a guess as to who might do such a thing," She muttered. Optimus nodded slowly, giving voice to her fears.

"M.E.C.H."

* * *

><p>The Autobots were torn between two decisions.<p>

On the one hand, Energon was a much needed commodity that the Autobots were running rather low on. Each battle with the Decepticons lowered their supply and put them that much closer to extinction.

On the other hand, this was clearly a trap – and as the group had just barely survived the last M.E.C.H. trap, no one was very eager to stumble into another one so soon. Optimus was just barely out of the med bay, and though no one mentioned it, it was clear the incident had bothered Wendy – she hadn't been quite as upbeat ever since. It wasn't something anyone wanted to repeat.

But, again, Energon was desperately needed. So the group was torn on which risk to take; endangering themselves fighting M.E.C.H., or endangering themselves by not going for the Energon they needed to survive?

The answer came to them, like so many things concerning the Cybertronians, from the stars.

* * *

><p>Something was different with Optimus.<p>

Wendy found herself somewhat bothered by the seeming switch in Optimus' attitude towards her. On the surface, everything was the same, mostly. They still talked somewhat often (she'd gotten over trying to avoid him, as it didn't help her situation, it only hurt him and made the other suspicious), they visited the cliff constantly, and Optimus came by her room each evening to bid her good night, as usual.

But there was… something… off. A look in his optics, a lighter tone in his voice, a strange way he'd talk to her. Something was different, and when she thought on it, Wendy became uncomfortable and self-conscious. Often, Wendy found during their conversations, she would begin retelling a story or explaining something, and look up to see the bot just watching her. Not like someone paid attention to someone they were listening to… but the way someone watched something with fascination for the pure pleasure of viewing it. It was… odd, from the boss bot. Especially when aimed at her. Flustered and unsure, she would try to ignore it and continue the conversation, somehow knowing Optimus knew she knew that look meant something.

Then there was the new way he treated her. He'd always been gentle and careful, but recently it was as if she were made of glass. For another it might be flattering, but Wendy was merely annoyed at the too-easy treatment. She was a human, not a porcelain doll!

Not to mention how much more attention she was getting. Usually, when she walked into a room, Optimus would nod his head to acknowledge her, and continue giving orders or looking over his work, and when a lull came about he would approach her. More recently he'd started – smiling. It was weird. Optimus and smiling was very different. Not – _bad_, per se, just not something Wendy had very often seen on Optimus, which had now somehow evolved into a daily thing. Something was definitely different.

So Wendy mulled over her new concerns about Optimus, sitting in the command center as three other bots argued over what to do. Arcee, Optimus, and Ratchet had been at it for a good twenty minutes, each being very sure of what they should do, and each vehemently opposed to the others plans. It was very aggravating, but made for good background noise for Wendy to think to.

But in the midst of her thinking, and their arguing, another alarm went off. Jumping, Wendy scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"What now? M.E.C.H. throwing a party and invitin' the lot of us?" Her sarcasm went unnoticed as all three bots turned to stare at the monitor with various looks of confusion mixed with elation.

"That's not the Energon alarm," Arcee muttered, a slow grin making it onto her face. Wendy's face contorted into confusion – If Optimus smiling was odd , Arcee grinning was somewhat terrifying.

"So? What is it?"

Optimus approached the terminal and did some things, pushed some buttons, and static came over the intercom. Then, suddenly, through the static, came voices. They weren't in any language Wendy could understand – and when Optimus opened his mouth to reply, he answered in the same squealing, confusingly metallic language. At first it was jarring, but in listening to it, it became almost melodic and lyrical.

"What's goin' on? Anybody gonna translate?" Bumblebee came around the corner, having heard the alarm – he chirped excitedly, chipper and elated, his fists pumping the air. Wendy couldn't hold in her laugh at the joy on his face. "Come on! Let me in on it!"

"That alarm's for incoming Autobot frequencies." Arcee explained, still bearing a big grin.

"Ah – don't get too excited yet!" Ratchet stated to them all as Optimus continued talking to the voice in the computer. "We all remember what happened when Wheeljack arrived!"

"Who's Wheeljack?" Wendy stood, approaching the railing.

"A friend of Bulkhead's who came for a visit a while back. The 'cons got to him first and replaced him with a mimic – but he busted himself out and beat the slag outta the guy." Arcee explained almost proudly.

"So – this guy on the line's another Autobot? From where?"

"Plenty of Autobots still roam the galaxy, looking for others of their kind." Ratchet began in his old-man-telling-recalling-the-old-days voice. "When we left Cybertron, it was madness. We were scattered to the stars. Who can tell how many of us are lost among the far reaches of the galaxy." The usually cynic mech almost sounded forlorn.

"But these guys found y'all. An' that Wheeljack character. So it's not all a lost cause, right?" Wendy didn't like seeing the hard edged medic look so down, but her words hardly helped. He glared and gave a 'tut', but didn't say anything because Optimus chose that moment to return to their group.

Wendy's eyes widened at the sight of him; he looked… shocked. Almost in awe; whoever he'd talked to had surprised the slag outta him. _Oh, wow, I'm even using their curse words in my head now. _The woman snorted.

"So? Were they really Autobots this time?" Arcee asked immediately.

"Yes… they were." Optimus spoke with an incredulous tone as if he felt he was dreaming. "I knew… know the team commander and confirmed her identification myself."

Four different reactions to those words occurred at once: Bumblebee jumped, giving a bunch of quick adorable clicks out of shock and excitement; Arcee gave that eerie grin again, almost young and cheerful looking, and let out a happy cry. "It'll be nice to have another femme around." She beamed.

Wendy didn't really appear excited or un-excited, just apathetic. She didn't know these bots, though she was glad her friends were happy. Or, at least… some of them were. Her eyes flew to Ratchet and found the medic surprisingly dark, almost morbid, gaze lowered, brow furrowed. For a moment his optics flicked to her, and then sharply flicked away. Wendy's eyes narrowed, then went to Optimus. The leader wasn't looking at her… wasn't looking at anyone. What had earlier been awe had somehow become trepidation – lowered shoulders, lowered optics, lowered mood.

Had something gone wrong…?

* * *

><p>For the time being, the worry of getting more Energon was pushed to the back – though with the arrival of more bots, the need for Energon would surely rise. But concern for the new arrivals was primary, since no one wanted a repeat performance of Wheeljack's arrival.<p>

So it was that Optimus, Ratchet, and Bumblebee drove out to meet the ship at its arrival point, a few miles outside of Jasper. Wendy tagged along, though for some reason Optimus had been reluctant to let her.

"Why not?" Wendy had asked, hands on her hips. Instead of what she'd expected – explanations of the dangers and risk, not wanting Wendy to be hurt – Optimus had merely glanced away, eyes lowered as if he felt guilty for something. After that, he'd given in, and the exchange still confused Wendy as she sat in Optimus' cab, driving towards the arrival point.

"So who's on this ship? How many new buddies are we talkin' 'bout?" Wendy asked. It was a seemingly innocuous question, but Optimus' wheel jerked beneath her hands when she spoke. Startled, she let go for a moment, watching the dash with wide eyes, before Optimus calmed himself.

"I – apologize, you… caught me off guard." Caught him off guard? Asking about the new arrivals? Cocking an eyebrow, Wendy crossed her arms.

"Uh-huh." But she didn't push it – Optimus was on edge enough as it was. Deciding to let it slide, Wendy shrugged. The rest of the ride was in silence.

Wendy had never been so relieved to get out of the cab as she was when they pulled to the sight and stopped. Optimus was being downright odd, out of character, as if he'd done something wrong. And since this was Optimus, there was no way he'd done anything; he was a halo short of a saint. So, confused and concerned for her friend, Wendy stepped out and let him transform, eyes following him even as he narrowly avoided her gaze.

Ratchet and Bumblebee pulled up, transforming quickly, and turned their gaze skyward. Wendy had to chuckle at the yellow bot – he was practically beaming, bouncing from foot to foot, arms tense and fists clenched. Ratchet nudged him and told him to calm himself, but it was no good – he was as excited as a kid on his birthday. Approaching the two, Wendy decided to ask them her question. But just as she opened her mouth, the roar of engines entered the atmosphere.

Eyes flying skyward, Wendy found herself the witness of something few humans would ever see – a large white space craft landing on the desert floor. Bumblebee keened and jumped for joy, while Ratchet resigned himself to giving an uncharacteristic smile. But Optimus… eyes narrowed in concern, Wendy turned to see their leader looking almost distraught. A sharp, jagged pain struck her heart like lightning, but she couldn't say a word to try and console him. The roar of the landing ship drowned her out.

The ship came to a halt and its engines died down as the three Autobots and the human approached cautiously. Each was still somewhat tense – Wendy could tell they still weren't sure who exactly would come out of that ship – but behind that tense fear was a desire, a want, no a need for friendly faces and old allies returned home. Only Optimus' reaction seemed out of place; why would the leader seemingly fear these new arrivals?

A sharp release of air marked the opening of the bay doors – the bots raised their arms as if ready to fight, but didn't pull out any guns yet. The lights inside the ship were so bright they were blinding, keeping all four from being able to see the forms stepping up to the top of the exit. Through squinting eyes, Wendy could see four vague shapes… and then voices came from the brightness.

"Hey! Is that who I think it is?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Wendy saw the medic stiffen suddenly.

"Huh… I think it is, bro."

A groan escaped the medic and his optics seemed to twitch. Confused, Wendy almost turned to look at him, when suddenly two forms barreled out of the ship with such sudden speed that Bumblebee jumped, summoning up his weapons in defense of his medic. Luckily for the newcomers, Optimus held his hand out and shouted, "Stand down!" That was all that kept the yellow scout from firing at the red and yellow forms leaping at Ratchet.

Wendy was almost squished by their suddenly onslaught, and likely would've been if not for Optimus' quick save. From her safe perch in his palm, she watched the new arrivals hug the medic tightly, all while Ratchet grunted and fought and gave a snarl.

"Of all the glitched bots in the universe, it had to be _you_ _two_!" Ratchet grumbled, trying to shove them off.

"Aw, come on, Ratchet, we were worried about you!" The red one cooed with a falsely slick tone.

"It's been eons! Weren't you worried about us?" The yellow one asked.

"More like worried for the poor bots forced to cope with you on their ship for solar cycles on end!" At this point, they were holding him in such a way that his arms were forced upward at an odd angle, making it hard for him to reach them and push them off. He struggled in vain, and eventually gave up, falling back to snarky words to fight with.

"Would you glitch heads get off!"

Perhaps because she was so fascinated by the strangely affectionate new arrivals, Wendy didn't notice the other two coming off the ship. One of them – large and brick red – approached the two bots, pulled them off Ratchet by the backs of the necks, and then slammed their heads together. The sharp CLANG had Wendy wincing in sympathy, as the two gave outcries of indignation.

"Come on! What was that for!"

"We're just saying hello to our favorite medic!"

"Yer bein' slag heads an' ya know it." The gruff red one muttered, before turning his gaze to Ratchet. The medic, somewhat ruffled, gave a burst of laughter and shook his head.

"Well, now that I know it was you with them on that ship, I don't feel so bad," He griped, and as he did, the red one chortled and crossed his arms.

"I'm pretty well equipped to handle those brats," He replied with a well-meaning grin as both of the "brats" stood back up.

Wendy watched the exchanged with growing humor, a grin spreading across her own face. "Friends of yours, Ratchet?"

The three newcomers turned their heads, stunned suddenly. "Whoa! What's that!" Wendy jumped when suddenly two faces were right in front of her, wide optics staring in curiosity. "A native?"

Optimus' other hand came around her, blocking her from view. "An ally – one you will treat with respect." As if they hadn't realized who'd been holding her – and they probably hadn't – the two bots jumped back, falling into military poses.

"Sir!"

"Sir!"

Wendy, grumbling and rolling her eyes, used the gaps in-between the Prime's fingers to climb up to the top. "Come on, boss, don't be so stiff. I wanna meet 'em!"

"Whoa… is she allowed to talk to him that way?" The red one asked.

"Yes," Ratchet answered with a smug smile.

Before anymore could be said between the group, a new voice entered the conversation, echoing out from the ship.

"Optimus Prime."

The leader stiffened, Wendy could feel it through his palm, and suddenly his sharp optics snapped up to the doorway. Coming down the ramp was a bot about the size of Bumblebee, though a tad thinner, colored in various shades of pink. Once she was out of the light, it was much easier to see her. Sharp features, bright yellow optics, and a soft smile covered her feminine face. Her gaze was focused solely on Optimus, looking very pleased. Something about the exchanged put Wendy on edge… she looked up to see Optimus looking… longingly. A sharp pain hit her right in the chest, like a bullet to the heart.

The femme grinned at his look, then suddenly spoke up. "All clear, Skyfire."

Suddenly the ship they'd been on began to whirl and grind, transforming before them into a huge mech about twice as tall as Ratchet, who towered even over Optimus. But he had a disarming smile on his sweet face, which Wendy might've noticed if she weren't so distracted by the knowing looks being traded between Optimus and this new femme. The woman forced herself to look away, focusing on the newest bot.

This one was colored red and white, and was now staring at her with wonder and curiosity. "Amazing…" The bot whispered. "I hadn't expected to come into contact with the native life so soon… fascinating…"

"If you weren't expecting it to happen, how is it you're speakin' my language right now?" Wendy asked, standing tall in Optimus' hold.

"Prime sent us a download with yer planet's primary languages in it, for yer benefit, I 'spose," The big red one muttered. "Name's Ironhide." He looked down at her with bright optics, though one was cut through by a nasty scar. Still, for all his formidable bulk and the horrific scars covering him, he seemed warm and friendly. Smiling, Wendy held her hand out.

"Gwendolyn Martin. Call me Wendy." Then she held her hand up for a handshake out of habit – but sheepishly realized that was not really plausible. Ironhide stared at her hand in confusion as she slowly began to lower it. "Right… forgot you're not locals."

Ironhide shrugged, which was a strangely human gesture that put Wendy at ease, as the mech turned and gestured to the two bots behind him. "Those two brats are Sunstreaker and Sideswipe," He pointed to the yellow one when he said Sunstreaker, though with a name like that, it was sort of obvious which one it was. Sideswipe was the red one. "They're uh… what would ya call 'em?"

"I believe the English human term would be 'brothers'." Ratchet clarified. Surprised, Wendy looked over to him.

"I didn't realize y'all had relations like that."

"We do, though they are rare." The medic had his arms crossed, and was trying desperately to ignore the two irritants standing on either side of him. Luckily for him, they soon turned their attention to the fascinating little creature in front of them.

"Wow, you're tiny. And you're a femme!" Sideswipe leaned down so his face was close to her, and she jumped back in retaliation. "I could squish you with my smallest digit!"

"And I could spit in yer eye from here, do ya mind?" Putting her hands on her hips, she cocked an eyebrow at the mech, who only laughed.

"Fiesty and small. Reminds me of you, Bee!" Sideswipe stood up and looked to the yellow bot, who spat out a fast paced line of squeaks and beeps that didn't sound polite. Meanwhile, the other twin leaned down to her, scrutinizing her with a dark look.

"You've got our symbol on your arm…" Remembering her tattoo, Wendy's hand instinctively flew to touch it, as she suddenly grew more self-conscious. "Never heard of a native from another planet joining the cause." He didn't really sound very thrilled about her joining up, either.

"Wendy is a special case – I owe her my life." Surprise and awe flew across the faces of the bots, who now looked down to Wendy with widened optics.

At that moment, the femme, who had thus far stood quietly smirking, hands on her hips, stepped forward. The mechs around her parted, making way for her to walk to Prime. Through his palm, Wendy felt him straighten up almost self-consciously, a nervous look coming over his face, and another pang of sharp agony hit her right in the chest. She didn't like this… not at all.

"Optimus… it's been a very long time." The femme stopped a mere foot from the taller mech, looking up with a broad smile. Uneasy, Wendy stepped away from her, until she hit Optimus's chest with a light clang. That drew the femme's attention downwards. "Wendy, was it? It's a pleasure to meet you." Then, to the human's great surprise, the femme raised her hand in the same way Wendy had earlier. She likely had no idea what it meant, but did it anyway because it was what Wendy had done. The pain from earlier lessened some, in the wake of surprise that this stranger was trying to make her feel at ease. "My name is Elita-One."

Slowly, Wendy lifted her hand back up, and took hold of one of Elita's slim fingers. Then, she moved her hand up and down, and the femme copied her. "The pleasure's mine." Wendy smiled, and she found the sentiment wasn't fake. Though the femme might make her uneasy, she seemed very kind.

When they lowered their hands, Elita looked back to Optimus.

"I have much to tell, sir, but perhaps this isn't the place to tell it."

Optimus nodded in reply. "We have a base not far from here, but we will have to take our alternate forms to keep from being seen. Our presence here is a closely guarded secret from the general public." As he spoke, Ratchet approached Ironhide, and then the others, one by one. "We've taken the liberty of choosing alt-modes for you that will blend in. Skyfire," He turned to the mech, who straightened as his name was called. "I'm afraid vehicles of your type are very rare and mostly unseen in this society – you will have to follow us from high above to avoid being seen or detected."

"Of course, sir," He nodded. "I will follow your beacons to the base." Then he leapt up, transformed, and flew up into the clouds.

With a little more hustle bustle, everyone eventually transformed, and Wendy took her place in Optimus' cab. The mech still seemed extremely nervous, almost uptight, which was odd given how relaxed he'd come to be around her in the past few weeks. It made Wendy anxious, and she couldn't help but think it had something to do with Elita-One… worried and confused, she spent the ride back to base in deep thought, unsure of what to do or think…

* * *

><p>"Hey, look bro! Another femme!"<p>

"This 'femme' has a name."

Arcee crossed her arms, optics narrowed at the two red and yellow Lamboghinis as they came to a halt and transformed within the base, having barreled in at alarming speeds. The humans reactions were mixed – Raf was taken off guard, and would've fallen off the walkway if Bulkhead hadn't caught him; Jack jumped in surprise, but quickly was in awe of the gorgeous vehicles; and Miko gave a cheer at the speed demons as they raced in.

"Cool!" The teen raced to the railing to see them, eyes bright and wide. She was the one the twins turned to first.

"_Another_ femme… there's a lot of them around here." Sunstreaker commented. "Humans must have a lot more of them than we do."

"What's a femme?" Miko asked, scrunching her face as if the term might be harmful.

"A femme's a female transformer – Miko is a 'girl'," Bulkhead explained both to the human and to the bots.

"Oh. Hello, 'girl'." Sunstreaker grinned.

"I am not 'girl'! My name is Miko!" Both the twins chuckled.

"Human femmes are really fiery." Sideswipe murmured in a way that sounded complimentary.

Before more could be said, more vehicles piled through the base entrance; Ironhide and Ratchet came next, transforming and continuing a conversation they must've been holding by comm link on the way there. Then Optimus arrived, then Elita, and lastly Skyfire, who had already transformed and was walking in instead of flying.

The twins, meanwhile, had turned their attentions from Miko to Arcee, who was glowering at them. Sideswipe let his optics run up and down her form, before leaning onto the human walkway, which gave a violent creak when he did. With a quirked eyebrow he greeted her. "How you doin'?"

Scowling, Arcee glared. "You've been here for a matter of hours, how is it you've already encountered the dredges of human culture?"

"The internet." The yellow twin offered helpfully behind his slightly more obnoxious brother.

"It was a long drive over here; we were online the whole way!" Sideswipe grinned even as she scoffed and walked past him.

Ratchet, meanwhile, had heard their conversation and turned to glower at Ironhide. "You let them on the internet!" The bigger mech, for his part, looked befuddled.

"What's the internet?"

The twins laughed loudly. "No matter what planet we're on, Ironhide's too old to keep up!" The kept laughing even as the mech grimaced at them and crossed his bulky arms.

* * *

><p>It was odd just how quickly the new comers acclimated to the group as a whole.<p>

The humans were thrilled to meet new Autobots; Miko, unsurprisingly, took best to Ironhide, and all of them seemed to enjoy his elaborate war stories, even Fowler, when he was around for them. Jack spoke quite a bit with Elita – maybe it was because he had the most experience with Femmes, maybe because he was the most mature of them and Elita respected that. Whatever it was, the two spoke often, and Arcee was also included. It seemed she was rather relieved to have another Femme on board.

Raf, by being best pals with Bumblebee, found himself with the twins the most. The young bots knew Bumblebee from Cybertron, and the three related most to each other due to how close they were in age. Raf, though somewhat overwhelmed by the two's exuberant personalities, was thrilled to be the center of attention, since both of them were very curious and had plenty of questions for him.

As for Skyfire, the shy mech seemed to prefer watching the others interact rather than joining in. The night the group arrived found them all partying into the night, divided up in the command center. Ironhide, Bulkhead, Arcee, Jack, and Miko were all listening to more of Ironhide's stories; Raf and Bumblebee were introducing the twins to the wonders of video games. Skyfire, having stood near Ratchet, was speaking with him quietly; and in the very back, away from the others, Optimus and Elita stood leaning against the wall, drinking energon.

Which left Wendy standing in the hall, watching.

Arms crossed, mood sour, face twisted into a reluctant grimace, Wendy watched her friends enjoying themselves, much too irritated to join in. The woman herself would never admit what had gotten under her skin, of course, but for most everyone in the room – save perhaps the newcomers – the reason was obvious. Every so often, Ratchet would glance over at her, examining as if to look for clues to her mood. Miko kept looking back and forth between her and the boss, frowning, and a few times it seemed Jack kept her from shouting anything unintelligent and perhaps damaging to one or the other.

Wendy, for her part, didn't really care. Yes, she was moping, and she knew it. But she felt she had the right to mope. She'd be over it in the morning of course… or maybe the next day. In a week? A month? Eventually she'd move on, but for the moment the woman was cursing her pit-forsaken luck, trying to ignore the burning sharp agony that was her heart at the moment.

_Disappointment's part of life, girl_, she thought dryly to herself as her gaze fell to the ground. _Suck it up._

With a sigh, she turned and walked out of the room, down the hall towards her bedroom.

* * *

><p>Elita watched her crew interact with Optimus', a smile on her face. It had been a long time since they'd been able to celebrate anything – turning to Optimus to state her thoughts, she found his optics glued on her. Smirking, she asked, "Like what you see?"<p>

Immediately the mech became flustered and lowered his gaze, though he gave a soft smile. It was a followed by a sigh, heavy and mournful, which surprised the femme. "I just… I never thought I'd see you again. After we left Cybertron and lost contact with your team… I thought I'd lost you."

Raising her servo, Elita trailed her fingertips over the mech's handsome face. "Never, Optimus. I'll be here for as long as you need me." Her hand lingered on his chin, lovingly.

His optics glanced away in nervousness – but not the kind she'd come to expect from him. Nerves from intimacy, from sincere closeness with another, she expected; but this was much harsher. This look was the one of someone keeping a secret. Frowning, she slowly lowered her hand, feeling a little disturbed, but did not mention it.

"It's been so long. I've dreamt of this but now that I am here… I can hardly believe it." Giving a sigh of her own, she leaned back and looked over her crew.

"I understand completely."

Optimus spoke with such dire heaviness it seemed out of place with the conversation – as if a weight was laying on him, forcing him down. Confused and concerned, narrowed optics turned back to him. "Optimus… are you sure you're all right?"

Slowly, he looked up to Elita, and nodded. "I will be."

For a moment, she simply watched him, then nodded and looked away. Her optics caught the sight of a human in the hallway. "Why is Wendy not participating?"

At the name, his head snapped up, looking where she was looking. Wendy turned then and walked down the hall, and Optimus quickly stood to follow her.

"Excuse me, Elita, I must… Wendy seems… I should check on her." With that stumbling excuse, the bot rushed away down the hall, leaving Elita to stare in shock after him. Her spark tightened, feeling the pain of something, some wall rising between them, and she gave a bittersweet smile.

"Of course… Optimus."

* * *

><p>Optimus rushed after his human friend, catching up quickly with his much larger steps.<p>

"Wendy. Wendy!" She didn't seem to hear him, or was ignoring him. Optimus couldn't decide which. Finally she slid to a halt, still facing away from him, shoulders stiff.

"Whatcha need, boss bot?" She mumbled, head low. Optimus's optics trailed over her, worried, brow furrowed.

"Are you feeling all right?" He finally asked. In response, the woman shrugged.

"Just tired. Think I'll head to bed." She began to walk again. Optimus, watching her go, found himself torn between following her, and returning to Elita. He glanced behind, then ahead, again and again. As he did, Wendy went further and further away. "Wendy!"

The woman didn't pause, but called back. "Yeah?"

Feet shuffling as if unsure whether to stay or follow, Optimus finally paused, and simply raised his head. "Good night."

Wendy hesitated for just a moment; glanced back over her shoulder. Her eyes were narrowed, dark, almost wearisome. "Night, boss." Then she turned and left.

Optimus stood in the hall, his pose so unlike his usually regal stand: shoulders slumped, optics narrow and low, mouth downturned. He stood in the middle, between Elita and Wendy, unsure of which one he should go to, unable to decide which one he wanted most.

* * *

><p>Time did not make things better.<p>

In fact, the wound seemed to hurt more and more as time went on. Whenever Wendy walked into a room and saw the two together – be it for strategy meetings or just meeting for lunch – her heart squeezed tight to bursting, and she found a quick excuse to leave. She hadn't been alone with Optimus in days, and made a point not to be. If Optimus noticed she was avoiding him, he didn't say.

_He's too caught up with his girlfriend to notice_, the woman thought somberly. She tried not to be bitter – she was happy that Optimus was happy. Really she was.

The others definitely noticed she was down though. The woman took to avoiding them, too. Eventually, she found she was spending most of her time in her room or at the cliff she and Optimus went to in the evenings.

Sometimes she still had hope that Elita and her crew would leave and things would go back to normal. Maybe she was imagining the closeness between them; or maybe Cybertronian society was different. Maybe she was his sister or something. In the dark of the night, Wendy would comfort herself with these weak hopes and thoughts, until the day she went to the cliff and found Optimus there, with Elita, watching the sunset.

Whatever slim hopes she'd had faded into darkness then.

* * *

><p>"You're avoiding him."<p>

Wendy snorted at Ratchet's words. She was sitting in the med bay, having been called there by Ratchet. She'd tried to get out of it, but after some creative threats of what he'd do to her if she didn't come, the woman huffed and gave in. So she sat on the nearest berth, watching the medic work, unsure of why she was there.

_If he's trying to cheer me up, he might as well not bother._ The woman lowered her gaze.

"Took you this long to notice?" Ratchet glared over his shoulder at her, and she just shrugged. She didn't feel like being nice.

Returning to his work, Ratchet fell silent for a little while. "I… apologize."

Wendy jumped. "What for?" Surprised by the statement, she watched as the medic gave up his work and turned to her, leaning his back against his desk.

"I knew of his history with Elita – but it never occurred to me she might return. It's been so long… I had assumed, like him, that she had been lost. And though I am very glad she is not… I am sorry I did not warn you." Ratchet looked surprisingly concerned and empathetic, unlike his usual sour disposition.

"So they're really… some Cybertronian equivalent of lovers? Husband and wife? Girlfriend, boyfriend?" The woman found her tone growing darker as she spoke.

"For a time, they were… I suppose you would say engaged. The war interrupted that." Pausing, the medic seemed to lose himself in memories for a moment. "I truly believe that Optimus feels something for you – but his past feelings for Elita are now, to him, an obligation which he will not turn aside."

Confused, the woman crossed her arms. "… what?"

The medic rolled his optics. "Optimus cares for you – but now that Elita has returned, he will not turn her aside because he is, as far as they are concerned, still engaged to her. But he does care for you!" He insisted.

Cold, bitter pain sunk her chest in. "That's supposed to make me feel better?" She mumbled.

Ratchet sighed, looking aside. "No… I suppose not."

The med bay doors opened, interrupting their conversation, and both turned to see the tall form of the Prime stride in.

"Ratchet, I need your… Wendy." His gaze had shifted from the medic to her as he spoke, his voice slowing as he saw her. The woman tried to smile at him, tried not to let her pain seem to obvious.

"Sorry. I'll get out of your way." She stood to get down – Ratchet reached out and helped her to the floor. Then she left the room, hands in her pockets, unshed tears in the corners of her eyes.

* * *

><p>Optimus and Ratchet watched her leave – and once she left the room, Ratchet turned angry eyes on his friends. "You are a fool!"<p>

"You think I do not realize that!" The quick response surprised Ratchet, who had not expected that much anger and pain from his friend. Optimus quickly calmed himself down, sighing and looking away. "Forgive me, my friend. … I am… at a loss." He slumped against a nearby berth, head low. "… not a week ago I learned of Wendy's feelings for me. I was honored, and I was happy. But not a day after, Elita returns to me." Somber eyes looked up to his friend, sharp pain hidden behind walls of denial. "How can I love one and not harm the other?"

Slowly, Ratchet approached, sitting next to his friend in a rare show of comfort. A hand covered Optimus's. "You can't."

They sat in silence for a little while. Optimus let Ratchet hold his hand, sitting side by side, taking a comfort he rarely allowed himself to have. "Then what do I do?"

"You could look at it logically." Ratchet offered. "Wendy is human. Elita is Cybertronian. With Elita, you could have sparklings. You could spend the rest of your lives together. You could be intimate. With Wendy, there is no chance of progeny – and perhaps no ability to be intimate together. Not to mention the fact that she will die given sixty or seventy years, leaving you alone for eons to come."

"I know all of that," Optimus sighed, and in a strange show of emotion, scrunched his face in pain, optics closed, mouth crumpled, as if he'd been physically hit. "I realize that. But why does my spark still ache for her?"

The medic watched the emotions run over his usually stoic's friends face, feeling his own spark tighten in realization. "Wait… your spark wants Wendy? But… she doesn't even have a spark!"

"Does she not?" Optimus looked up, weary eyes opening. "Perhaps not a Cybertronian spark… but humans speak of having souls. Perhaps that is what my spark reaches out to – her human soul." He lifted his hand out of Ratchet's hold to touch his chest. "I feel her here… I want her. My spark once ached this way for Elita, but now… all I can think of is her."

"I didn't… I never conceived that a Cybertronian spark could reach out to a human being…" Ratchet was clearly shaken. "But… but all of the issues standing between you…"

"I could very well die long before her," The leader admitted, glancing down. "This war… Megatron… I am likely to be killed in battle long before old age takes her from me."

"Don't speak like that!" But even as he protested, Ratchet knew there was a grain of truth in what the mech was saying.

"But Elita…" Sighing, the mech looked away. "I…"

"It seems, to me, you have already made your choice."

The two fell silent, Optimus still staring holes into the floor, as Ratchet sat patiently by, acting as the rock of support that Optimus so often was for him. The switch in roles was disconcerting, but it was good to know his friend still needed him sometimes.

"How am I to tell her?" He didn't specify which female he was speaking of, but Ratchet seemed to understand what he was asking.

"You'll have to speak privately to both of them. And quickly, since I believe Wendy is having a trying time of it at the moment. The sooner you tell the truth, the better." Ratchet stood, giving his friend some space. "I can't tell you how to tell them… you know them best."

He nodded. "I do." A resolute frown came over him, determined though pained, as he knew what he had to do and though he didn't like it, he was going to see it through.

It was then the alarm sounded.

* * *

><p><em>Sorry this one's short and bittersweet - hope to get the next one out quickly! <em>

_As for the newest episode (which I'm sure we've all seen~) - I really love the new developments, but I don't want to address them just yet. I haven't decided how to use them. Either I'll take the final episode and go my own way with it, or I'll wait until some of season two has come out, so I can follow the series plot. Any suggestions from the readers? If you have an idea I'll certainly take it into consideration._

_Thanks for reading! _


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